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MEMORIAL    SKETCH 


Elizabeth  Emerson  Atwater 


WRITTEN  FOR  HER   FRIEXDS. 


By    MARY    CLEMMER. 


BUFFALO: 
THE    COURIER    COMPANY,    PRINTERS. 

1879- 


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Cabinet  Portrait. 

y/.  TaBER  ^   pO..  PHOTO. 


SAN  FRANCISCO. 


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£(f|atct5  Emerson  ^ttoatcr. 


Born   in   Norwich,  Vt.,  August  8,  1812. 
Died  in   Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  April  ii,  1878. 


701082 


MEMOIR 


CHAPTER    I. 

Childhood — Youth — School- days. 

Air  HEN  a  woman  endowed  with  mental  gifts  in  any 
special  direction  passes  away,  it  is  considered  the 
proper  thing  to  tell  her  story,  and  to  do  reverence  to  her 
memory.  But  every  little  while  we  see  a  woman  great  in 
womanhood  pass  swiftly  and  silently  out  of  her  secluded 
sphere,  and  there  seems  to  be  no  one  to  uplift  the  virtues 
which  she  exalted,  or  to  tell  the  story  of  a  life  fit  to  be  the 
inspiration  of  every  life  that  comes  after  it.  One  reason 
for  this  is,  that  so  much  may  be  lived  that  never  can  be 
told.  She  lived,  she  loved,  she  served,  she  suffered,  she 
died — that  seems  little  to  tell  the  eager  denizens  of  the 
world,  rushing  in  every  direction  to  seize  the  prizes  which 
the  world  hangs  everywhere  almost  within  reach  of  its  own, 
I  may  be  mistaken  :  I  may  have  been  unfortunately  placed, 
but  I  seem  to  know  many  more  women  who  are  struggling 
after  these  prizes — the  prizes  of  fashion,  of  society,  of 
wealth,   of    i)0\ver,   of    fame — than    I   know   women    simi)ly 


great  in  those  unconscious  graces  of  the  soul  -which  bring 
womanhood  nearest  to  the  Divine  Nature  and  closest  to  the 
human  heart. 

Such  a  woman  was  the  one  whose  perfection  of  character 
and  of  life  can  be  but  faintly  reflected  on  these  pages.  The 
exhalations  of  the  finest  natures  are  as  subtle,  as  illusive  as 
the  perfume  of  flowers.  They  fill  every  day  of  a  life  with 
pervasive  fragrance ;  but,  when  they  have  passed  on  and 
higher,  who  may  catch  and  transfix  forever  in  the  amber  of 
recorded  fact  that  exquisite  memory  !  It  is  most  fitting 
that  the  name  of  such  a  woman  should  be  perpetuated  in  a 
flower.  Elizabeth  Emerson  Atwater,  not  the  mother 
of  children  who  could  rise  up  and  call  her  blessed,  was  the 
discoverer  of  plants  new  to  science.  One  of  these,  "in 
honor  of  its  enthusiastic  discoverer,"  was  named  by  Dr. 
Carl  ]\Iuller,  the  distinguished  Bryologist  of  Germany, 
"Bryum  Atwaterise." 

Elizabeth  Emerson  was  born  in  Norwich,  Vermont, 
August  8,  1812.  She  grew  to  the  first  consciousness  of 
childhood  in  one  of  those  homes  of  plenty  and  intelligence 
in  which  New  England  abounds.  At  six  years  of  age, 
through  the  intercourse  of  their  parents,  she  became  ac- 
quainted with  another  little  girl  of  her  own  years  in  the 
neighboring  village  of  Strafford.  The  daughter  of  Judge 
Harris,  a  man  of  substance  and  repute,  this  little  friend 
bore  the  name  of  Janette  Harris.  In  addition  to  his  magis- 
terial duties,  Judge  Harris  kept  the  village  "store."  Here, 
in  an  immense  crate,  which  was  a  receptacle  of  all  the  "  paper- 
rags  "  of    the   surrounding   country,  these   two   little   maids 


played  and  "rummaged,"  and  found  new  "strips"  of  start- 
ling cloth  for  their  dolls'  clothes.  This  was  the  beginning 
of  a  friendship  that  lasted  more  than  sixty  years,  and  was 
not  dissolved  even  by  death.  Janette  Harris  of  that  long- 
ago  time  still  lives,  honored  and  beloved  by  all  who  know 
her,  the  widow  of  Hon.  Portus  Baxter,  of  Vermont,  who 
died  in  Washington,  D.  C,  iS6S. 

To  her  devotion  to  the  memory  of  her  life-long  friend, 
the  writer  is  indebted  above  all  others  for  the  material  for 
this  sketch. 

Janette  Harris  had  a  sister — only  one — "  Marcia,"  who,  with 
herself,  lived  to  become  a  beauty  and  belle  famous  through 
all  their  State.  But  before  that  day  of  enchantment  came, 
the  two  sisters,  with  little  Elizabeth  Emerson,  started 
forth — not  to  seek  their  fortune,  but  to  go  to  school — to 
boarding-school  which,  in  1828,  was  more  of  an  event  in  a 
girl's  life  than  it  can  be  in  1878. 

To  hear  ]Mrs.  Baxter  tell  of  the  journey  to-day,  is  indeed 
"a  tale  of  ye  olden  time."  Think  of  riding  all  the  way 
from  Northern  Vermont  to  Troy,  New  York,  in  a  stage- 
coach and  that  a  sleigh !  One  gets  a  very  vivid  picture  of 
the  three  girls — the  two  beautiful  blondes  and  the  little 
brune,  Elizabeth.  The  hoyden  of  the  party  whose  pranks 
filled  the  minds  of  her  companions  with  dismay  was  Janette, 
foredoomed,  as  a  matter  of  course,  by  her  vivacious  tem- 
perament to  terrible  home-sickness,  when,  for  the  first  time 
in  her  life,  she  should  find  herself  far  from  father  and  mother 
shut  up  in  a  very  famous  establishment  for  young  ladies. 
To  educate  young  ladies  seriously,  elegantly  and  liberally 


8 

was  at  that  day  a  far  more  exceptional  process  than  it  is  at 
present  when  colleges  and  ologies  for  women  are  so  diffu- 
sively multiplied..  In  1828  the  one  famous  school  in  the 
land  for  young  women  was  Mrs.  Emma  Willard's  Seminary 
at  Troy.  Here  Elizabeth  Emerson  laid  the  foundation 
for  that  fine  and  careful  culture  which  the  leisure  of  her 
after-life  as  well  as  the  proclivities  of  her  mind  made  to  her 
possible. 

Yet,  as  we  listen  to  the  5'ellow,  time-worn  letters  so  sacredly 
preserved  by  Mrs.  Baxter,  we  find  that  the  school-girl  of 
1828  writes  to  her  "  Dearest  Janette  "  wonderfully  like  the 
school-girl  of  1878  writes  to  her  "Darling  Dovie."  Eliza- 
beth Emerson  and  Janette  Harris  happily  went  to  school 
before  the  diminutive  "z>"  had  robbed  of  their  nobility 
three-fourths  of  the  noblest  names  of  womanhood.  But 
in  genuine  girl  fashion  Elizabeth  Emerson  laments  the 
departure  of  her  mother  to  her  "Dearest  Janette." 

Troy  Seminary,  October  18, 1S27. 
Mother  left  us  before  the  stage  passengers  had  breakfasted,  and  Abba 
and  myself  had  to  wait  there  all  alone  until  they  were  to  start,  which  was 
half  an  hour  ;  I  suppose  that  time  to  you,  Janette,  seems  very  short,  but 
to  us,  I  assure  you,  it  seemed  a  long,  long  time.  Can  you,  my  dearest 
Janette,  imagine  my  feelings  when  the  carriage  came  to  the  door?  You 
may  conceive  in  some  measure  that  they  cannot  be  described.  I  thought 
there  never  wasso  cruel  a  woman  as  mother. 

To  US  who  know^  the  "  Battle  of  Prague  "  only  as  a  laughed- 
at  tradition,  her  allusion  to  it  here  seems  to  come  out  of  the 
far  past. 


Troy  Female  Seminary,  January,  1828. 

Does  your  father  intend  purchasing  a  piano  for  you?  The  last  music 
lesson  I  took,  was  a  part  of  the  "  Battle  of  Prague." 

I  am  housekeeper  (no,  not  housekeeper — room-keeper)  this  week  ;  have 
risen  every  morning  before  six  o'clock  and  made  a  fire  out  of  paper, 
lighted  my  lamp,  and  put  my  room  in  order  before  the  "warning  bell," 
Now,  Janette,  don't  you  think  I  am  a  smart  child  ? 

My  lecture  in  chemistry,  in  which  I  am  to  expose  myself  in  explaining 
at  examination,  is  Fluorine  ;  I  do  not  like  it  much. 

As  we  recall  the  advance  she  made  in  the  science  after- 
wards, which  made  her  the  honored  correspondent  of  some 
of  the  most  distinguished  Botanists  of  the  world,  her  first 
allusion  in  her  early  girlhood  to  her  favorite  science  is  full 
of  interest : 

Troy  Seminary,  July  21,  1828. 

I  fear,  Janette,  you  will  be  disappointed  in  finding  me  with  no  addi- 
tional knowledge  of  Botany,  as  I  have  attended  very  little  to  it  this  term  ; 
have  collected  very  few  flowers,  as  I  think  I  have  not  been  to  walk  since 
the  last  of  June,  and  shall  indeed  be  happy  once  more  to  get  home,  where 
I  can  ramble  as  I  like,  and  without  a  teacher. 

In  1829  we  find  the  young  lady  at  home  again,  in  Nor- 
wich, making  to  her  beloved  Janette,  very  free,  vivacious 
comments  on  one  of  the  characters  of  the  region. 

Norwich,  Jan.  i82g. 
Janette,  I  must  tell  you  Mr.  Rifford  passed  two  days  with  us  last  week, 
and  of  all  the  disagreeable  objects,  I  think  he  is  one.  He  is  from  morn- 
ing till  night  talking  of  Marcia  Harris  ;  thinks  there  never  was  such  per- 
fection— he  thinks  Janette  he  should  prefer  for  a  wife.  While  here,  he 
was  continually  calling  for  tea,  tea — "  Mrs.  Emerson,  a  little  more  of  your 
good  tea  !  " 


lO 

In  1830  her  father,  Judge  Emerson,  moved  to  a  new  estate 
and  into  a  new  house,  which  he  had  built  irt  Windsor,  Ver- 
mont. In  the  same  house  and  on  the  same  estate,  the  pres- 
ent Minister  to  Russia,  Hon.  E.  W.  Stoughton,  to-day  finds 
his  summer  rest,  and  his  fair  summer  home.  There  is  not  a 
more  picturesque  spot  in  all  Vermont  than  this,  in  sight  of 
Mount  Ascutney,  and  in  one  of  the  most  exquisite  corners 
of  the  whole  Connecticut  Valley.  From  this  enchanting 
place  a  venerable  young  lady  of  eighteen  deplores  to  her 
old  comrade,  "  Janette,"  the  days  of  their  youth,  i.  <?.,  when 
they  were  six  years  old  and  "  rummaging  "  for  doll  rags. 

^YINDSOR,  April  12,  i8jo. 
I  am  glad  you  have  determined  upon  passing  this  summer  leisurely,  or 
rather  that  you  have  not  attached  yourself  to  the  duties  of  a  school.  I  am 
in  hopes  to  be  at  liberty  in  May,  when  I  shall  anticipate  and  hope  to  real- 
ize a  visit  from  you.  It  seems  an  age  since  you  and  I  have  exchanged 
visits,  as  we  used  frequently  to  do.  How  many  happy  hours  we  have 
passed  together !  Could  old  times,  or  rather  the  days  of  our  youth,  be 
restored,  I  fancy  we  should  be  found  working  dresses  for  dolls,  or  rum- 
maging over  paper-rags  in  the  store ;  but  to  recall  scenes  and  pleasures 
past,  no  doubt  in  our  happier  days,  is  a  melancholy  thought,  and  as  I 
was  just  inclining  to  be  merry,  I'll  leave  this  subject. 

Nine  years  later  we  find  her  in  this  same  pleasant  home 
writing  to  her  friend  of  a  recent  recovery  from  a  severe  ill- 
ness, under  date  of 

Windsor,  March,  i8jg. 

That  the  ills  of  this  life,  though  they  may  impair,  do  never  destroy  the 
health,  is  indisputably  evidenced  to  me  in  the  fact  that  I  am  still  a 
"sojourner  on  earth."  You  will  deem  me  quite  wanting  in  the  share  of 
fortitude  allowed  to  woman  ;  I  am  ready  to  acknowledge  that  the  "lot" 
which  fell  to  me  was  considerably  diminished  in  quantity.     Considering 


II 

my  stature  it  was  doubtless  regarded  sufficient.  In  my  estimation  the 
ills  I  have  encountered  seem  quite  disproportionate  to  the  object.  But 
spring  has  come  !  The  harbinger  of  genial  suns  and  early  flowers  that 
I  love  so  well — sufficient,  I  trust,  to  arouse  my  dormant  powers  ;  to  prove 
the  brighter,  that  they've  slept  so  long. 

In  July,  of  the  same  year,  she  was  married  to  Mr.  Samuel 
T.  Atwater,  of  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  She  writes  of  her  marriage  to 
her  friend  "  Janette,"  in  a  letter  dated 

Windsor,  July  fS,  i8jg. 
In  your  letter  you  desire  remembrances  to  Mr.  Atwater,  and  say  "  if  he 
loves  you,  I  love  him."  Mr.  A.  is  sorry  that  you  speak  with  so  little 
confidence  of  his  affection,  and  begs  me  to  tender  you  his  kindest  re- 
gards, and  say  that  it  does  not  admit  of  a  doubt.  We  were  married  on 
Tuesday  (July  i6)  morning,  at  nine  o'clock,  rather  privately,  but  few 
friends  invited.  I  knew  it  would  be  a  mere  matter  of  cei;emony  to 
extend  an  invitation  to  your  family  to  be  present,  whom  of  all  my 
friends,  I  should  be  most  gratified  to  have  recognized  on  this  occasion. 
The  wedding  was  private  ;  in  the  evening  we  received  a  small  party  of 
friends,  and  thus  passed  off  our  marriage-day.  Don't  fail  to  write  me  ere 
my  departure,  and  allow  me  this  first  time  to  add  my  changed  name, 
though  with  continued  affection, 

Yours  truly, 

Elizabeth  Atwater. 

With  this  letter  we  part  with  her  maiden  days.  Serene, 
most  fair,  they  lie  far  back,  touched  by  the  enchantment  of 
the  past.  They  can  be  but  dimly  reflected  on  these  pages 
by  one  to  whom  the  earth  was  then  an  unknown  sphere. 
But  those  who  follow  these  lines  may  see,  by  the  works  that 
do  follow  her,  that  the  days  of  her  life  and  the  clear  perfec- 
tion of  her  character  more  than  fulfilled  all  the  promise  of 
her  auspicious  youth. 


CHAPTER    II. 

Her  Happy  Marriage— Removal  to  Buffalo — to  Chicago— Active  Life 

There. 

T  N  her  marriage  Mrs.  Atwater  entered  into  that  rare  ideal 
relation  with  another  human  being  which  is  reserved  for 
the  elect  pairs  of  this  world.  More  than  thirty  years  of 
daily  intercourse  failed  to  wear  away  the  fineness  of  its 
charm  or  the  sweetness  of  its  fellowship. 

In  a  letter  to  "  Janette,"  written  in  Buffalo,  February  24, 
1840,  she  gives  a  picture  of  New  Year's  Day  in  that  city 
near  forty  years  ago.     She  writes : 

As  you  anticipated,  dear  Janette,  the  Holidays  passed  merrily  with  us. 
It  is  customary  in  Buffalo,  as  in  all  the  New  York  cities,  for  the  ladies  to 
"sit  in  state"  on  New  Year's  Day,  from  which  custom  we  did  not  choose 
to  deviate.  Accordingly  we  "  sat  up  (or  rather  stood)  for  company"  and 
received  seventy-six  calls  from  the  beaux  of  our  city.  We  prepared  a 
table  of  refreshments,  of  which  all  made  it  a  ceremony  to  partake — 
though  sparingly,  as  the  same  ceremony  was  observed  in  every  successive 
calling  place.  The  wines  and  champagne  were  not  wholly  neglected. 
The  fluids  seemed  in  greater  requisition  than  the  solids,  though  the  sub- 
stantial were  occasionally  partaken  of,  that  the  equilibrium  be  main- 
tained. Those  who  paid  their  devoirs  in  the  after  part  of  the  day 
evidenced  a  little  more  spirit  than  those  who  called  in  the  morning. 
Yet  none  were  so  far  regardless  of  the  respect  due  to  themselves  and  the 
ladies  whom  they  visited  as  to  appear  other  than  with  propriety.  It  was 
truly  a  merry  season  to  all,  and  a  novel  one  to  me,  for  I  have  never 


13 

before  chanced  to  be  deposited  where  this  custom  prevailed.  Notwith- 
standing the  hard  times  there  are  splendid  parties  at  private  houses, 
assemblies,  military  balls,  etc.,  constantly  in  agitation.  My  husband 
and  myself  are  so  well  satisfied  with  each  other's  society  that  we  are  not 
necessitated  to  resort  to  such  scenes  for  amusement  or  enjoyment,  and 
both  entertaining  the  belief  that  there  is  no  comfort  in  such  scenes,  no 
good  arising  from  a  habitual  attendance  on  them,  we  have  refrained  from 
frequenting  them,  as  many  do — to  dissipation. 

The  same  year,  speaking  of  the  absence  of  Mr.  Atwater, 
on  a  business  trip  to  New  York,  she  says: 

My  husband  found  it  necessary  to  go  to  New  York  on  business,  where 
he  was  detained  nearly  three  weeks.  He  reached  home  Sunday  last, 
only  to  leave  the  following  Wednesday,  to  return  to-morrow.  Now, 
Janette,  I  can  sympathize  with  you  in  the  absence  of  your  husband. 
If  ever  I  knew  what  it  was  to  experience  loneliness  in  a  crowd  it  has 
been  in  the  absence  of  my  husband.  You  will  not  laugh  with  incredulity 
at  the  idea  of  my  regretting  an  absence  so  temporary,  for  you  have  a 
better  self  and  can  appreciate  my  feelings. 

We  have  a  regiment  of  officers  stationed  in  our  city,  which  contributes 
much  to  its  life.  General  Scott  and  his  Aid  gave  us  a  call  a  week  or 
two  since,  when  they  were  in  the  city.  His  Aid,  Lieutenant  Keyes, 
married  a  particular  friend  of  mine  in  Brooklyn,  L.  I.  General  Scott  is 
one  of  the  most  noble-looking  men  I  ever  saw,  and  vastly  familiar  and 
agreeable  in  conversation. 

In  the  winter  of  1841,  after  speaking  of  the  gaiety  of  the 
city  (Buffalo),  she  says : 

Agreeable  to  Samuel  T.'s  and  my  own  sage  decision,  such  a  disposition 
of  time  is  incomparably  insignificant  to  the  pleasures  attendant  on  our 
own  domestic  fireside,  when,  with  books  and  work,  and  occasional  con- 
versation, time  passes  merrily,  innocently  and  in  realization  of  substan- 
tial enjoyment.  However,  with  an  extended  city  acquaintance,  it  seems 
a  duty  to  occasionally  receive  and  reciprocate  such  civilities.    We  regard 


H 

this  interchange  in  the  light  of  duty  ;  for  really  it  is  at  the  sacrifice  of 
every  amiable  feeling  to  make  one's  toilet  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing and  proceed  to  a  fashionable  party. 

The  necessity  of  conforming  to  fashion,  which  is  so  fickle  and 
arbitrary,  is  almost  unbearable,  and  yet  one  cannot  be  independent  of 
it,  if  they  mingle  in  society  at  all ;  it  is  a  sorry  state  of  things. 

In  the  two  last  quotations  we  find  the  key — the  open  sesame 
— to  her  entire  nature.  Small  and  slight  though  she  looked, 
she  was  never  lifted  from  her  feet  by  any  vanity  of  this 
world.  Of  an  exquisitely-refined  presence — with  a  person 
petite  to  daintiness,  manners  as  delicate  as  they  were  win- 
some, radiating  with  the  finest  intelligence — she  might  have 
"shone  "  in  what  is  called  the  most  "  brilliant  "  society,  had 
** shining"  been  in  any  degree  a  purpose  of  her  life.  Born 
to  the  most  refined  and  intelligent  associations,  she  retained 
them  to  the  last.  But  to  be,  rather  than  to  seem  anything, 
was  so  utterly  the  main-spring  of  her  being  that  from  very 
girlhood  her  character  and  life  struck  to  the  surest  founda- 
tions. The  purpose  for  personal  improvement,  which  the 
average  girl  leaves  behind  with  her  school-books,  was  a  pre- 
vailing impulse  in  Mrs.  At  water  to  her  latest  earthly  day. 
Nor  in  her  did  it  ever  degenerate  into  a  selfish  seeking  after 
self-growth  or  mental  perfection  for  her  own  laudation.  She 
received  to  impart.  She  enriched  science  with  the  treasures 
of  nature.  With  as  hearty  a  largesse  the  gold  of  this  world 
that  came  to  her  as  her  share  she  divided  with  the  helpless 
and  the  afflicted.  Never  a  self-seeker,  even  now  it  is  easier 
to  lay  your  hand  upon  what  she  did  than  to  touch  even  by 
spirit  that  which  was  essentially  her.  The  proofs  of  her  ex- 
quisite taste,  the  results  of  her  tireless  industry,  the  monu- 


ments  of  her  endless  benevolence  remain.  But  even  the 
recorded  words  left  to  reflect  her  personal  self  are  few  and 
far  between.  To  those  who  knew  and  loved  her,  they  are 
the  feeblest  of  pale  shadows  of  her  busy  yet  serene  life — of 
her  symmetrical,  subdued,  yet  strong  and  sunny  character. 
As  the  long  years  run  on  through  her  journals,  reference  to 
her  personal  experience,  to  her  personal  emotions,  became 
less  and  less  frequent  till  they  cease  almost  entirely,  and  the 
closely-written  pages  become  compact  records  of  the  out- 
goings and  in-comings  of  her  ever-busy,  fruitful  days.  This 
would  have  been  a  wise  repression  of  herself 'had  she  been 
possessed  by  an  aggressive,  egotistical  self,  which  required 
repression  to  keep  it  within  due  bounds.  In  her  it  was  the 
final  and  finest  seal  of  self-forgetfulness,  of  pre-occupation 
for  others,  of  absorption  in  scientific  and  benevolent  pur- 
suits. The  most  noticeable  fact  on  these  pages  is  the  frequent 
recurrence  of  the  name  of  every  friend,  even  of  those  who 
had  passed  but  on  the  outer  edge  of  her  life.  That  these 
journals  to  her  were  but  mere  records  of  reference  was 
proved  when,  before  her  death,  she  requested  her  husband  to 
destroy  them  all.  Had  imagination  or  emotion  held  her  in 
stronger  thrall  there  would  have  been  page  after  page  of 
glowing  description,  or  of  self-centered  musing,  out  of  which 
might  have  been  cut  passages  that  to-day  would  have  been 
most  precious  to  her  friends.  They  would  not  have  ex- 
pressed her^  therefore  we  have  them  not.  Hours  that  a  more 
subjective  mind  might  have  spent  in  thought,  she  spent  in 
active  occupation.  And  the  most  certain  expression  of 
Elizabeth  Atwater's  nature  and  mind  we  find  not  in  the 


i6 

pages  of  any  journal  whatever,  but  within  the  walls  of  His- 
torical Rooms,  and  Museums  of  Science,  and  in  the  Home  of 
the  Aged  in  Chicago,  which  she  aided  in  founding. 

Of  the  happy  years  of  her  life  spent  in  Buffalo  we  have 
no  record  outside  of  her  letters. 

In  1856  Mr.  Atwater  moved  to  Chicago.  Here,  perhaps, 
more  than  anywhere  else,  she  sowed  and  reaped  the  richest 
harvests  of  her  useful  life.  The  writer  must  deplore  that 
she  herself  holds  no  personal  knowledge  of  those  years.  It 
seems  indispensable  to  the  perfect  justice  she  would  do  to 
the  memory  of  Elizabeth  Atwater,  that  she  should  have 
had  personal  association  with  her  during  the  epoch  when 
her  activity  was  greatest,  her  benevolence  at  high  tide,  and 
her  ripe  and  perfectly-balanced  powers  at  their  prime.  It 
hurts  me  to  think  how  much  more  interesting  and  perfect 
this  sketch  would  be  could  I  tell  all  about  the  beginnings  of 
that  beneficent  charity  which  she  aided  in  organizing,  and 
did  so  much  to  carry  on— ^the  Old  People's  Home;  and  if 
I  could  but  recall  personally  some  of  her  acts  of  heavenly 
kindness  to  the  dumb  creatures  of  God  in  the  Humane 
Society.  This  is  not  my  high  privilege.  I  can  only  repro- 
duce the  scanty  pages  on  which  her  own  delicate  hand  traced 
the  story  of  one  happy  episode  in  her  "Old  Ladies'  Home  " 
life.     Of  a  Christmas  Celebration  at  the  Home,  she  says  : 

Directly  after  dinner  I  drove  down  to  the  Old  Ladies*  Home,  agree- 
able to  previous  arrangement ;  the  weather  being  very  severe,  T.  would 
not  let  me  go  in  the  cars.  On  my  arrival  found  quite  a  number  of 
friends  of  the  Home  and  neighbors  already  assembled.  A  lady  con- 
tributed two  Christmas  trees,  one  quite  large  and  one  small.  I  laid  aside 
my  bonnet  and  heavy  blanket  shawl,  and  went  to  work  with  the  others 


in  marking  gifts  witli  the  names  of  the  old  ladies  who  were  to  receive 
them,  and  attaching  tiiem,  or  such  as  were  not  heavy,  to  the  Christmas 
trees.  Handkeichiefs,  skirts,  shoes,  collars,  shawls,  stockings,  gloves, 
nightcaps,  alpaca  aprons,  calico  aprons,  Sontags,  flannel,  cotton,  etc., 
etc.,  made  up  the  donations  to  the  old  ladies.  A  beautiful  writing-desk, 
filled  with  all  the  necessary  equipments,  was  our  gift  to  the  matron,  also 
handkerchiefs  and  a  nice  breakfast  shawl  from  some  other  friend.  The 
old  ladies  had  not  the  remotest  idea  what  was  going  on  down  stairs,  but 
received  instructions  from  the  matron  to  present  themselves  in  a  body  in 
the  parlor  at  the  sound  of  the  bell !  Accordingly,  when  all  the  articles 
were  apportioned,  and  the  empty  boxes  and  waste  papers  and  strings  set 
aside,  the  bell  sounded,  the  doors  were  thrown  open,  and  a  procession  of 
eighteen  old  ladies  descended  the  stairs  and  entered  the  parlor.  And 
now  forthe"ohs"  and  the  "ahs,"  the  interrogations  (??)and  exclama- 
tions (! !)  One  said,  "  How  could  you  keep  this  all  so  quiet  ?  We  thought 
we  were  to  have  a  very  dull  Christmas,  nobody  having  called  to  see  us." 
After  being  permitted  to  walk  around  the  trees  and  see  the  beautiful 
things,  they  were  requested  to  step  into  the  dining-room  and  seat  them- 
selves, when  they  should  be  allowed  to  taste  of  some,  and  be  presented 
with  others.  Ice  cream  and  several  varieties  of  delicious  cake  were  pre- 
sented to  each  one  in  turn.  I  poured  out  the  four  pounds  candy  from 
"  Giinther's  "  on  a  huge  platter,  and  passed  it  to  one  and  all,  saying  that 
each  one  might  take  as  many  as  they  could  hold  in  one  hand.  It  was 
amusing  to  see  the  effort  made  to  adapt  the  hand  to  the  circumstances  ! 
They  all  thought  the  candies  were  marvellously  good.  The  ladies  and 
one  gentleman  present  partook  of  ice  cream  and  cake  with  the  old  ladies — 
all  but  one.  I  improved  this  opportunity  in  going  up  stairs  to  visit  two 
sick  ones  who  were  unable  to  appear  down  stairs.  I  took  a  few  articles 
extra  to  these  two,  and  to  three  more  of  my  favorites  who  are  invalids. 
The  dining-table  looked  very  nicely,  laden  with  ice  cream  and  confection- 
ery. The  repast  concluded,  three  ladies  of  us  commenced  to  demolish  the 
fruit  of  the  Christmas  trees,  by  calling  out  "  Collar  for  Mrs.  Van  Buren, 
handkerchief  for  Mrs.  Lavinea,"  etc.,  at  the  same  time  passing  the 
declared  article  along  the  ranks  to  the  recipient.  It  was  interesting  to 
witness  the  delight  of  these  poor  old  creatures  at  being  so  kindly  remem- 
bered. All  the  old  ladies  kissed  me  over  and  over  from  very  joy.  They 
hardly  knew  how  to  give  expression  to  their  gratitude.  All  being  over, 
I  bundled  up,  bid  adieu  to  all,  and  went  home. 
o 


Again  she  writes : 

This  being  our  day  of  regular  meeting,  I  visited  all  the  old  ladies  in 
their  rooms,  giving  poor  old  Mrs.  Grant  the  snuff  I  purchased  for  her 
last  evening.  She  was  very  grateful  for  my  attention,  and  pronounced  it 
the  pure  maccaboy — with  a  bean  in  the  bargain  !  Old  lady  Horton 
was  so  grateful  for  the  dress,  that  she  had  to  give  me  an  embrace  with 
a  kiss. 

On  her  return  from  California,  in  September,  1873,  she 
visits  her  old  ladies  : 

I  called  upon  all  the  old  ladies,  twenty-one  in  all.  Gave  them  all 
shells  and  pebbles  from  "  Pescadero."  They  were  as  much  pleased  as 
children. 


CHAPTER    III. 

Mrs.   Atwater's  Visit  to  Nantucket — Discovery  of    a    Flower — Visit  to 
California— A  Rich  Family  Relic. 

ANY  one  who  recalls  the  reedy  moors  of  Nantucket  and 
its  old  quaint  houses,  will  realize  all  that  such  a  spot 
would  be  to  a  natural  antiquarian  like  Mrs.  Atwater. 
In  1858  she  writes  of  it  to  Mrs.  Baxter: 

Two  sheets  of  paper  would  not  suffice  to  tell  you  of  the  wonders  of 
Nantucket.  The  old,  old  dwellings  with  the  horseshoe  imbedded  in  the 
casing  over  the  door  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  off  the  witches.  This 
superstition  I  had  read  of,  but  doubted ;  now,  my  eyes  have  seen  it. 
The  old  fire-places  with  tiles  around  them  an  hundred  years  old.  These 
tiles  represent  Scripture  scenes  and  some  fancy  pieces,  and  others  yEsop's 
Fables.  Some  are  red  on  white  ground,  some  steel  color,  and  some  blue. 
There  were  usually  from  twenty-one  to  twenty-seven  around  the  fire- 
places, according  to  the  size  of  the  chimney.  We  visited  one  house 
where  the  entire  set  was  perfect.  They  represented  Scripture  scenes  and 
were  blue  on  white  ground.  Another,  the  residence  of  Capt.  Albert 
Wood,  had  twenty-seven  tiles  around  the  fire-place.  These  were  steel 
color  and  represented  ^sop's  Fables.  It  was  too  comical  to  see  the  wily 
old  fox !  I  have  always  been  crazy  to  have  some  tiles  and  am  now 
rejoicing  in  some.  — 

We  visited  the  grave  of  John  Gardner  who  came  over  in  the  "  Mav- 
flower,"  and  went  to  see  the  first  house  erected  in  Nantucket  which  is 
still  standing,  built  by  John  Gardner  for  his  daughter's  dowry.  It  has 
a  horseshoe  built  in  the  front  of  the  chimney. 


20 

One  who  remembers  "the  oldest  house  in  Nantucket," 
standing  as  it  does  on  the  sea-washed  moor  aloof  from  the 
village,  little  and  brown,  and  so  old,  stuffed  with  mediaeval 
furniture  on  exhibition  at  ten  cents  per  sight,  will  find  it 
easy  to  "realize"  the  emotions  of  Mrs.  Atwater  as  she 
"  revelled  "  under  its  roof.  But  Nantucket,  rich  in  stories 
of  the  past  and  in  trophies  from  every  land  under  the  sun, 
gave  from  its  scarred  old  bosom  to  Mrs.  Atwater  the  one 
treasure  that  above  all  others  could  be  dear  in  her  sight — a 
flower.  One  sole  flower,  whose  seed  she  believed  was 
brought  by  birds  from  distant  lands,  for  not  the  whole 
island  nor  America  itself  produced  another  plant.  Of  the 
precious  "  Erica "  we  will  speak  further  on  under  Mrs. 
Atw^ater's  contributions  to  science. 

Delicate,  always  hovering  on  the  borders  of  invalidism, 
Mrs.  Atwater  was  not  an  extensive  traveler,  and  while  all 
lands  contributed  to  her  culture,  she  had  never  visited  any 
shore  beyond  her  own.  But  a  long-anticipated  delight  was 
hers  when,  accompanied  by  her  husband  in  April,  1873,  she 
went  to  California.  For  years  and  years  a  supreme  longing 
of  her  own  and  of  her  friend  "  Janette  "  had  been  to  look 
upon  the  flowers  of  California.  To  the  latter  the  first  sight 
came  a  few  years  later,  but  in  1873  Mrs.  Atwater  thus 
writes  of  them  : 

Oh  the  wealth  of  flowers  !  I  could  never  have  conceived  such  a  para- 
dise on  earth.  The  thought  of  passing  without  plucking  them  compelled 
me  to  close  my  eyes  and  try  and  shut  them  out  from  my  vision. 


21 

Again  : 

Took  no  dinner,  but  took  the  time  when  passengers  were  eating  to 
secure  lovely  wild  flowers  on  the  plain  beyond  the  track.  At  supper 
time  repeated  the  performance.  Some  scarlet  larkspurs  I  saw  nearly 
distracted  me ;  I  had  never  even  heard  of  them  before. 

On  the  bank  of  a  rivpr  I  discovered  the  beautiful  flowering  shrub  that 
cousin  Robert  once  had  in  his  yard.  I  screamed  on  seeing  it,  and  "  T." 
voluntarily  jumped  out  for  it,  recognizing  it  at  once.  This  plant  is  worth 
the  journey  to  the  Redwoods,  if  we  had  no  other  pleasure.  Oh  the 
flowers !  I  could  not  step  without  crushing  them.  The  most  petite  ; 
the  most  exquisite  structures  I  ever  beheld. 

Mr.  Blair  had  sent  up  to  my  room  during  the  morning,  a  package  of 
New  Zealand  ferns  for  my  acceptance.  There  are  twenty-four  varieties 
elegantly  prepared.  He  purchased  the  collection  at  Wellington,  New 
Zealand.     This  is  a  most  unexpected  gift. 

September  17,  1873,  she  writes  in  her  diary: 

Spent  a  morning  finishing  up  the  collection  for  Academy  of  Science, 
Buff"alo. 

Received  a  present  from  Mr,  Bosi,  of  Florence,  Italy,  thus  described: 
It  is  a  magnificent  work  of  art — the  head  of  Mr.  Lincoln,  our  late  be- 
loved president — done  in  Florentine  mosaic.  Underneath  the  head  are 
represented  delicate  white  flowers  and  rosebuds,  copied  from  a  little 
bouquet  of  pressed  natural  flowers  which  I  sent  to  Mr.  Bosi  with  a  carte 
de  visile  of  Mr.  Lincoln,  which  Mrs.  Lincoln  gave  me,  saying,  "  it  was 
the  best  likeness  of  him  ever  taken."  The  flowers  were  presented  me 
at  the  old  Lincoln  home  at  Springfield,  during  Mr.  Lincoln's  presidency, 
by  a  lady  temporarily  occupying  the  premises.  Thinking  they  might 
interest  Mr.  Bosi,  I  forwarded  them  to  him  with  the  picture,  while  we 
were  boarders  with  Mrs.  Lincoln  and  Taddy  at  the  Clifton  House.  This 
exquisite  mosaic  is  framed  in  an  elegant  bronze  frame,  and  is  altogether 
a  gift  to  be  coveted  by  royalty  itself. 


22 
On  the  eighth  of  August,  1877,  she  writes  in  her  diary: 

Received  newspaper  from  my  friend  Mercy  B.  Wright  noticing  a 
Grammar,  which  has  recently  come  to  light,  written  by  my  grandfather, 
Abel  Curtis,  when  in  college  at  Dartmouth.  The  book,  which  seems  to 
be  the  only  copy  extant,  is  in  possession  of  Rev,  Henry  A.  Hazen,  of 
Billerica,  Mass.  Have  written  a  few  lines  to  the  owner  regarding  the 
book,  and  giving  the  reason  of  my  especial  interest  in  it  that  I  am  the 
granddaughter  of  Abel  Curtis. 

The  thirteenth  of  August,  1877,  she  says: 

Received  response  to  my  communication  to  Rev.  Henry  A.  Hazen, 
relating  to  grandfather  Curtis'  Grammar.  He  is  very  enthusiastic  over 
the  discovery  of  this  long-secreted  book,  and  pronounces  it  almost  be- 
yond doubt  the  first  English  Grammar  written  in  America.  Says  he  shall 
take  it  to  Bennington  to  exhibit  at  the  Centennial  next  week,  as  beyond 
doubt  Vermont's  first  contribution  to  the  literature  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

Her    Devotion    to    Children    and    Animals — Connection    with    Humane 
Society — Extracts    from  Journals. 

TT  is  part  of  the  irony  of  fate  that  many  women  especially  en- 
dowed with  the  tenderness  of  motherhood  should  live  and 
die  childless.  This  is  so  ordered  that  love  which  else  might 
be  all  lavished  upon  their  own  may  flow  forth  through  many 
channels  to  enrich  and  gladden  the  world.  Mrs.  Atwater 
was  one  of  these  women.  To  hear  her  speak  to  a  child  or 
to  an  animal,  was  to  make  you  feel  that  you  had  never  heard 
them  spoken  to  before.  Says  her  friend  Mrs.  Baxter, 
"There  never  was  anything  like  her  child-talk.  Nothing 
half  so  tender  or  bewitching."  Children  who  would  have 
so  filled  and  crowned  her  life  were  denied  her.  But  because 
of  this  she  did  not  murmur  or  repine.  She  did  not  sink 
down  to  idleness,  fretfulness,  satiety  or  selfishness.  She  did 
not,  as  so  many  women  have  done,  elevate  her  life  solely  to 
housekeeping,  to  fashion,  to  society — or  even  to  the  Church. 
Her  tide  of  sympathy  being  deep,  clear,  still,  could  not  be 
absorbed  by  any  one  object,  but,  full  of  blessing,  flowed  out 
over  many.  Literature,  art,  science,  claimed  her  attention, 
but  more  than  all,  benevolence !  The  religion  of  such  a 
spirit  had  nothing  in  it  of  the  sounding  brass  or  tinkling 
cymbal.     Rather,  it  suffered,  and  was  always  kind — how  kind, 


24 

with  that  charity  which  is  love,  the  unfortunate,  the  helpless, 
the  dumb  knew  best. 

One  of  the  strongest  passions  of  her  nature  was  her  sympa- 
thetic love  for  animals.  Their  silent  life  full  of  irresistible 
appeal  went  straight  to  her  heart.  Long  before  Bergh's  name 
had  ever  been  mentioned  she  constituted  herself  a  "  Humane 
Society  "  of  one,  and  went  into  the  most  active  operations. 
No  one  in  Chicago  was  better  acquainted  with  \.\\t  petite  fig- 
ure, the  gentle,  deprecating  face,  the  entreating  voice  of  Mrs. 
At  WATER,  than  the  drivers  of  drays,  and  the  beaters  of  help- 
less animals.  No  street  was  too  crowded,  no  crossing  too 
dirty  for  those  delicate  feet  to  pass — if  so  doing  she  could 
reach  the  afflicted  creature  she  essayed  to  help.  No  man 
was  so  rough  or  so  cruel  that  she  would  refrain  from  uttering 
to  him  her  spontaneous,  tender  appeal,  to  be  merciful  to  the 
poor  beast  who  at  such  terrible  disadvantage  shared  with  him 
the  heavy  burden  of  life.  And  few,  indeed,  were  the  men  so 
lost  to  manly  honor,  or  latent  kindness  of  heart,  as  to  listen 
unmoved  to  the  entreaty  of  this  gentle  woman.  They  might 
resist  the  interference  of  any  man ;  but  a  lady — "  such  a 
lady!"  Oh!  that  was  a  different, matter.  Few  were  so  lost 
to  the  possible  sense  of  chivalry,  but  that  they  gladly  with- 
held a  few  blows  for  the  sake  of  rising  a  little  in  the  estima- 
tion of  "such  a  lady."  The  writer  met,  at  the  sea-side  last 
summer,  a  lady  from  Chicago,  who  lived  long  in  the  same 
hotel  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Atwater,  sitting  at  the  same  table 
with  them.  Still  she  said  :  "  I  never  think  of  Mrs.  Atwater, 
but  I  see  before  me,  as  I  saw  more  than  once,  that  slender 


25 

body  leaning  far  out  a  high  window,  as  she  begged  the  man 
in  the  yard  below  to  cease  beating  his  horse." 

When  the  Humane  Society  was  organized  in  Chicago,  she 
became  one  of  its  most  active  members,  and  in  her  journals 
we  constantly  meet  passages  concerning  it.  November,  1873, 
she  writes : 

I  rushed  over  in  a  state  of  great  excitement  to  see  Mr.  Sharp  at  the 
rooms  of  the  Humane  Society,  and  report  a  man  who  was  cruelly  beating 
a  poor  ox  about  his  face  and  over  his  eyes. 

During  the  prevalence  of  the  epizootic,  she  writes: 

Have  grown  so  nervous  from  seeing  so  many  poor  sick  animals  com- 
pelled to  do  duty,  that  I  could  sit  no  longer  at  my  window. 

Again : 

Horses  are  becoming  more  frequent  on  our  streets,  but  I  have  not  the 
heart  to  ride,  even  if  they  were  going  my  route. 

Was  greatly  excited  at  seeing  a  horse,  one  of  a  span  attached  to  a  large 
wagon,  seized  with  apparent  convulsions  and  falling  to  the  earth.  A 
great  crowd  assembled,  and  I  was  half  frightened  out  of  my  senses,  run- 
ning down  to  the  office  of  the  Humane  Society  and  requesting  the  agent 
to  go  and  see  about  the  matter. 

Seeing  the  abuse  inflicted  on  some  poor  oxen  drawing  bricks  and  stone, 
opposite  my  windows,  I  hastily  laid  aside  my  work,  dressed  in  all  the 
winter  paraphernalia,  and  was  just  starting  for  the  Humane  Society,  when 
Mrs.  Shaw  was  announced,  and  after  a  call  she  accompanied  me  to  the 
office,  where  I  suggested  to  Mr.  Bronson,  the  secretary,  the  propriety  of 
watching  these  inhuman  men. 

The  twenty-sixth  of  February,  an  intensely  cold  dav,  she 
writes  : 


The  poor  animals  compelled  to  lal)or  to-day  must  have  suffered  greatly. 

Have  been  so  annoyed  at  the  inhuman  treatment  of  a  horse  by  a  la- 
borer, that  I  could  not  endure  it  any  longer,  but  went  over  in  all  the  mud 
to  State  street,  to  enter  a  complaint  to  the  Humane  Society.  The  rooms 
of  that  Society  having  been  removed  to  Madison  street,  near  the  bridge, 
a  long  way  to  go,  in  the  mud,  Mr.  Sharp  kindly  said  he  would  speak  to 
Mr.  Brown,  and  have  some  person  on  the  ground  to-morrow  morning. 

Miss  Stone  called  (October  same  year)  weeping  convulsively.  She  had 
seen  a  splendid  horse  prostrate  on  the  sidewalk,  with  his  leg  broken,  suf- 
fering intense  agony.  Said  he  looked  at  her  and  groaned  so  piteously. 
that  it  almost  broke  her  heart.  I  immediately  accompanied  her  to  the 
office  of  the  Humane  Society  and  told  Mr.  Sharp  of  the  circumstance. 
He  dispatched  a  message  to  the  west  side  by  telegraph  to  the  surgeon  in 
their  employ  to  come  without  delay,  and  sent  a  man  to  the  protection  of 
the  poor  animal  until  further  aid  should  arrive. 

While  at  Pescadero,  California,  in  1873,  she  writes: 

An  old  family  dog  accompanied  us  in  our  ramble.  He  is  sick  of  con- 
sumption, and  very  feeble,  but  inclined  to  go  with  us.  He  formerly 
accompanied  the  family  to  the  beach  daily,  and  has  rescued  several 
children  from  the  sea.  An  immense  Newfoundland,  but  his  days  of 
usefulness  are  passed.     He  enjoyed  the  walk,  but  seemed  very  feeble. 

Again,  while  at  Stagg's  Springs,  California: 

The  old  pet  dog  "  Nigger  "  is  one  of  the  family  here,  and  often  follows 
the  guests  on  their  excursions  into  the  canons.  He  was  savagely  bitten 
not  long  ago  by  several  dogs.  Mrs.  Ware  took  all  the  care  of  him,  and 
washed  the  wound  on  his  head  daily,  since  which  he  manifests  the  most 
intense  attachment  for  her. 

While  en  route  to  the  Yosemite  Valley : 

We  stopped  at  "  Jerry  Hodgden's,"  the  regular  stage-house,  to  rest  a 
moment,  as  well  as  to  leave  a  little  black  dog  that  we  found  in  the  wilder- 
ness, six  miles  back.  He  implored  us,  as  plainly  as  a  dog  could  speak,  to 
take  him  into  our  carriage.  I,  of  course,  interceded  in  his  behalf,  and  he 
was  overjoyed  to  be  riding  with  us.     We  passed  but  one  habitable  cottage, 


27 

and  that  of  the  rudest  kind.  We  stopped  the  carriage  before  the  door, 
and  asked  if  they  (three  men)  would  not  give  the  little  dog  a  home. 
They  replied,  "  Take  him  on  to  Hodgden's."  So  to  Hodgden's  we  took 
him,  and  to  our  astonishment  found  he  was  their  dog,  quite  a  pet.  his 
name  "Billyh  It  seemed  that  he  was  greatly  attached  to  one  of  the 
stage-drivers,  and  rides  on  the  seat  with  him  frequently,  and  follows  him 
off  by  stealth,  though  the  "Hodgdens"  tie  him  up.  I  was  greatly 
relieved  to  know  he  had  a  home,  and  we  were  the  means  of  conducting 
him  to  it. 

Of  a  friend's  parrot  she  says : 

Her  parrot  manifested  the  greatest  pleasure  at  seeing  me,  leaving  her 
perch  immediately  on  my  entrance,  and  sitting  on  my  lap  until  my 
departure.  Mrs.  C.  said  it  was  an  unusual  manifestation  of  affection  on 
her  part ;  that  she  rarely  condescended  to  such  an  extent. 

With  all  her  kindness,  her  extreme  sympathy  with  animals, 
she  was  not  one  of  those  half-natures  who  allowed  animals 
to  supercede  human  beings  in  her  affections  or  care.  But 
when  into  the  empty  nest  came  little  animals  and  birds,  how 
much  of  the  doting  tenderness  that  would  have  been  lavished 
upon  a  child  was  unconsciously  bestowed  upon  them,  we 
realize  as  we  recall  the  story  of  the  death  of  her  little  "Jo," 
a  canary-bird,  March,  1877.  She  writes  of  the  death  of 
little  "Jo": 

After  dinner  discovered  dear  little  "Jo"  lying  in  the  bottom  of  his 
cage,  apparently  in  great  distress.  Put  him  in  my  handkerchief  and  sat 
down  with  him  near  the  fire.  He  soon  had  two  spasms,  and  ceased  to 
breathe.  It  has  really  made  me  sick  to  witness  the  little  darling's  suffer- 
ings. We  have  had  him,  and  watched  over  him  with  the  greatest  solici- 
tude, as  we  think,  about  twelve  years — a  gift  from  Mrs.  Latham — a 
precious  little  treasure — I  have  cried  myself  sick.  "  T."  feels  his  loss  too. 
So  fades  away,  one  by  one,  the  dear  earthly  attachments,  wisely  ordered, 
but  painful  to  submit  to.     Have  put  him  in  a  little  tin  box,  with  cotton 


28 

and  silk  paper.  "  T."  took  the  dear  little  remains  over  to  "  Katie's,"  to 
await  the  softening  of  the  ground,  that  we  may  put  him  in  his  final 
resting-place. 

Amid  the  delicate  treasures  long  ago  laid  away  by  her 
tender  little  hands,  I  find  an  envelope,  bearing  on  its  outside, 
in  her  writing,  the  inscription,  "  Fidelity  Dog,"  and  inside 
the  faithful  record  of  this  famous  dog  of  Chicago,  which 
I  give: 

The  Dog  "  Fidelity." — This  dog  is  an  object  of  historiqal  interest. 
On  the  night  of  the  great  fire.  October  9, 187 1,  he  took  refuge  in  an  open 
vault  in  the  basement  of  the  Fidelity  Savings  Bank  and  Safe  Depository, 
143  Randolph  street,  and  remained  there  until  the  morning  of  the 
eleventh  of  October,  when  he  was  found  unharmed.  He  is  believed- to 
be  the  only  creature  that  passed  through  the  Great  Fire  alive.  The 
event  of  yesterday  was  the  appearance  of  that  famous  canine  hero,  the 
Fidelity  dog.  This  grizzled  and  sturdy  veteran  is  henceforth  to  be  a 
permanent  feature  of  the  display.  He  will  receive  the  visits  of  old  and 
new  friends  at  the  stand  of  J.  M.  Terwilliger,  the  safe-man.  The  dog  is 
the  noble  fellow  whose  memory  is  to  be  handed  down  to  all  fair  posterity 
in  connection  with  fire  annals  in  Chicago.  Pent  up  in  the  Fidelity  vaults, 
he  lived  unscorched  through  those  blazing  hours  when  all  the  rest  of 
Chicago  toppled  to  fiery  ruin.  The  fact  that  these  vaults  could  perfectly 
protect  animal  life  right  through  the  fiercest  conflagration  ever  known, 
was  naturally  accepted  as  permanent,  irrefutable  evidence  of  their  invin- 
cibility to  flame.  Vaults  and  dog  were  henceforth  famous — modern  types 
of  salamanders. 

In  the  same  case  is  another  memento  quite  as  character- 
istic of  the  woman  who  placed  it  there,  three  exquisite  ferns 
issuing  from  one  mossy  root,  folded  away,  their  tissue  wrap- 
per bearing  in  Mrs.  Atwater's  hand  this  inscription : 

Three  sister  ferns,  Ellen,  Sarah  and  Jennie,  from  west  side  of  Pacific 
Lake,  to  which  a  new  path  has  lately  been  opened,  where  were  found 
these  first  beautiful  mosses  and  ferns,  August  16,  1877. 


29 

No  added  words  can  make  more  vivid  the  mingled  deli- 
cacy and  tenderness  of  so  rare  a  nature. 

In  her  journal  we  find  these  three  personal  records. 
Thursday,  August  8,  1872  : 

My  sixtieth  birthday  !  Who  could  believe  it  ?  And  yet  it  seems  forever 
since  I  went  to  Sabbath-school,  and  received  the  little  blue  tickets  and  red 
tickets  in  return  for  the  verses  from  the  New  Testament  which  I  recited. 
God  has  mercifully  spared  me  these  many,  many  years. 

Thanksgiving  Day,  1872,  she  writes: 

It  has  not  seemed  much  like  the  old-fashioned  Thanksgivings  of  my 
dear  mother's  preparation.     Those  days  are  gone  irrecoverably. 

April  18,  1877,  she  says: 

The  grass  is  fresh  and  green,  and  spring  indications  are  apparent.  I 
long  for  the  country.  Are  we  mortals  ever  satisfied?  A  lovely  mocking- 
bird across  the  street  contributes  greatly  to  my  pleasure. 


CHAPTER    V. 

Her  Contributions  to  Science  and  to  Historic  Records — Correspondence 
with  Almira  Lincoln  Phelps — Professor  Gray,  etc. — The  Erica  and 
Bryum  Atwaterice. 

A  1  Then  Elizabeth  Atwater  entered  the  Troy  Sem- 
inary, that  institution  was  more  in  the  land  at  that 
day  than  is  Vassar  or  Smith  College  to  the  young  women 
of  our  own  epoch.  The  names  of  its  principal  and  chief 
teacher — two  sisters,  Mrs.  Emma  Willard  and  Mrs.  Almira 
Lincoln  Phelps — will  live  in  after  generations  with  that  of 
Mary  Lyon,  of  South  Hadley.  Among  the  earliest  and 
noblest  pioneers  of  woman's  advanced  education  in  the 
United  States,  Emma  Willard  and  Mary  Lyon  have  passed 
on  to  the  reward  of  their  fruitful  lives,  honored  already  by 
the  women  of  a  second  generation,  who  never  looked  upon 
their  living  faces.  But  Mrs.  Almira  Lincoln  Phelps  still 
remains  upon  the  earth,  in  the  full  possession  of  her  facul- 
ties, honored  and  revered  in  her  venerable  age.  After  fifty 
years  have  measured  their  cycle,  she,  at  the  age  of  eighty, 
lives  to  publish  in  the  Botanical  Gazette  of  September,  1878, 
her  record  of  the  Bryum  Ativateria^  discovered  to  science  by 
Elizabeth  Emerson,  her  pupil  of  1828.  She  says  in  Botan- 
ical Gazette : 


31 

Bryum  Atwaterl^. — The  discoverer  of  this  plant  was  Elizabeth 
Emersox,  of  Vermont,  a  pupil  at  the  Troy  Seminary  in  1828,  when  the 
writer  (then  Mrs.  Lincoln)  was  preparing  for  publication  her  lectures  on 
Botany.  Some  forty  years  after  this,  the  former  pupil  visited  the  writer 
at  her  home  in  Baltimore,  introducing  her  husband,  S.  T.  Atwater,  Esq., 
of  Chicago.  She  had  cultivated  the  love  of  science  imbibed  from  her 
school-teachings.  In  affluent  circumstances,  without  children,  and  with 
an  indulgent  husband  who  was  happy  to  gratify  her  literary  and  scientific 
taste,  she  had  traveled  much  and  made  extensive  researches  in  Natural 
Science. 

After  the  renewal  of  our  acquaintance  she  was  a  faithful  and  attentive 
correspondent.  At  my  suggestion  she  presented  to  the  "  Maryland  Acad- 
emy of  Science  "  a  valuable  collection  of  four  hundred  botanical  speci- 
mens. She  was  elected  an  honoray  member  of  this  society,  which,  after 
her  death  in  Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  in  April,  1S7S,  paid  a  fitting  tribute  to  her 
memory,  as  an  earnest  laborer  in  the  cause  of  science. 

We  take  from  a  Michigan  paper  an  extract  from  an  address  of  Prof. 
Albert  D.  Hager,  before  the  Chicago  Historical  Society : 

"  Mrs.  Atwater  w^as  interested  in  several  departments  of  science,  but 
botany  was  her  favorite  study.  During  a  sojourn  in  California  she  pre- 
served more  than  two  thousand  specimens  of  plants,  several  of  which 
were  new  to  science."  After  recounting  her  valuable  historical  records, 
her  philanthropic  efforts,  and  her  active  and  generous  benevolence,  the 
Professor  closes  by  this  remark  :  "  It  may,  in  truth,  be  said  that  the 
world  is  made  the  better  as  well  as  the  wiser  for  her  having  lived  in  it." 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  of  February  12,  1878,  to  the 
writer,  gives  the  history  of  the  discovery  and  naming  of  the  Bryum 
At  water  ice  : 

"  I  forward  for  your  acceptance  this  little  specimen.  I  believe  you  will 
feel  an  especial  interest  in  it,  from  its  having  been  found  by  your  former 
pupil.  I  gathered  it  with  other  plants  at  the  foot  of  the  Yosemite  Falls, 
in  the  Yosemite  Valley,  California,  on  June  24,  1873.  It  being  an  infer- 
tile specimen,  I  hesitated  relative  to  pressing  it,  but  was  attracted  by  its 
peculiarity,  and  preserved  several  tufts  of  it.  Attaching  no  particular 
value  to  it — being  not  in  fruit — yet  greatly  interested  in  its  appearance,  I 
did  not  send  it  with  other  plants  to  friends  for  whom  in  my  travels  I  am 
in  the  habit  of  collecting,  but  chanced  to  include  one  in  a  small  parcel  to 


32 

my  friend,  Dr.  Charles  Mohr,  a  German  gentleman,  resident  in  Mobile, 
Alabama,  and  a  fine  botanist.  He  noticed  it  as  new  to  himself,  and 
immediately  forwarded  the  tuft  to  Dr.  Karl  Muller,  the  distinguished 
Bryologist  in  Germany.  I  quote  from  Dr.  Mohr's  letter  in  reference  to 
it  :  '  Dr.  Muller  describes  that  fine  brown  moss,  of  which  you  had  sent 
me  an  infertile  specimen,  as  a  new  species,  naming  it  in  honor  of  its 
enthusiastic  discoverer,  Bryum  Atwateria.  It  is  nearly  allied  to  the 
B.  alpinum  of  Europe.'  It  was  reported  in  the  '  Bulletin  of  the  Torrey 
Botanical  Club,'  New  York,  August,  1874." 

To  this  account  of  the  discovery  and  naming  of  the  plant  under  con- 
sideration, we  will  add  that,  though  the  name  of  the  genus  Brytim  is 
ascribed  to  Linnaeus,  it  seems  to  have  been  merged  in  with  other  genera 
of  mosses,  and  is  not  found  in  the  works  of  many  of  our  distinguished 
American  botanists.  Lindley  refers  to  Hooker  for  a  description  of  the 
family  Bryacea;,  of  which  Bryum  may  be  considered  a  type.  He 
enumerates  more  than  a  hundred  genera  of  BryacecB,  and  says :  "  The 
little  plants,  the  Ur7i  Mosses,  form  one  of  the  most  interesting  depart- 
ments of  Cryptogamous  Botany  ;  they  are  distinctly  separated  from  all 
the  previous  tribes  by  the  peculiar  structure  of  their  reproductive  organs." 
The  position  of  the  Bryacea,  according  to  Lindley,  is  between  Junger- 
manniacecE  and  Andnvacea.  We  have  not  seen  what  the  distinguished 
Bryologist,  Karl  Muller,  says  of  this  peculiar  family  of  plants.  That  he 
has  honored  our  countrywoman  in  naming  her  as  a  discoverer,  entitles 
him  to  our  gratitude. 

I  will  add  to  this  article  but  one  short  sentence,  worth  more  than  all  to 
her  who  is  now  in  the  better  world — she  was  a  Christian. — Almira 
Lincoln  Phelps,  Baltimore,  Md. 

In  Mrs.  Atwater's  diary  we  find  this  allusion  to  Mrs. 
Phelps'  acknowledgment  of  her  discovery : 

Received  a  letter  from  my  old  teacher,  Mrs.  Almira  L.  Phelps,  She 
writes :  "  Mrs.  Phelps  rejoices  over  my  discovery  of  the  Erica,  saying 
she  is  very  proud  that  a  pupil  of  hers,  after  forty  years'  separation  from 
her,  has  discovered  a  new  plant." 


33 

Earlier  letters  from  Mrs.  Atwater  to  Mrs.  Phelps  refer 
to  her  contributions  and  relations  to  the  Society  of  Natural 
Sciences  of  Maryland.     Here  is  one  written  May  ii,  1875  : 

Dear  Mrs.  Phelps  : 

Through  your  instrumentality  am  I  indebted  to  the  "Maryland 
Academy  of  Sciences"  for  the  honor  conferred  upon  me  of  correspond- 
ing member.  Complimentary  as  it  is,  were  it  courteous  to  decline  its 
acceptance,  I  should  have  felt  constrained  to  do  so,  not  possessing  the 
health  adequate  for  the  duties  which  a  membership  involves.  I  can  but 
imperfectly  maintain  the  extensive  correspondence  in  which  I  have  for 
many  years  been  engaged. 

The  trifling  assistance  of  occasional  contributions  of  plants,  culled  in 
my  travels  in  pursuit  of  health,  I  shall  be  happy  to  render.  This  will  be 
a  poor  equivalent  for  the  compliment  offered.  However,  I  shall  throw 
all  the  odium  of  a  failure  in  my  duties  upon  shoulders  too  well  known  by 
the  public  to  admit  of  a  doubt  regarding  their  capacity  for  the  burden. 

I  regret  not  having  visited  the  academy  when  last  in  Baltimore.  I 
devoted  an  entire  day  to  the  wonderful  collection  at  the  Academy  of 
Sciences  in  Philadelphia. 

Before  the  Chicago  conflagration  of  1 8  71, 1  was  the  possessor  of  one 
of  the  best  individual  collections  in  the  whole  Northwest — consisting  of 
minerals,  fossils,  rare  Italian  marbles  of  exceeding  beauty,  precious 
stones,  curiosities,  etc.,  etc.  All  were  absorbed  in  the  devouring  element, 
save  a  few  boxes  placed  beyond  the  limit  of  the  fire.  My  choicest  speci- 
mens, at  the  solicitation  of  our  lamented  secretary,  Dr.  William  Stimpson, 
were  temporarily  deposited  at  the  "  Chicago  Academy  of  Sciences" — all 
were  lost.  I  have  had  but  little  heart  in  the  work  since  that  terrible 
night.     My  herbariums  were  saved. 

From  Mrs.  Atwater  to  Mrs.  Phelps,  March  3,  1876  : 

I  have  felt  great  reluctance  in  forwarding  plants  to  the  "  Maryland 
Academy  of  Sciences,"  knowing  their  facilities  for  collecting  to  be  so 
great.  However,  have  sent  off  by  to-day's  express  a  package  of  over 
four  hundred  specimens,  and  earnestly  hope  in  the  little  collection  there 
may  be  an  occasional  one  of  interest  to  the  society. 


34 

Since  I  last  wrote  to  you,  added  to  the  fearful  effects  of  the  fire,  I 
received  a  fall  in  a  peculiar  way  ;  from  the  combined  effects  of  which  and 
the  fire  I  abandoned  the  idea  of  delaying  the  plants  for  printed  labels  or 
a  systematic  arrangement.  I  have  been  particular  in  appending  the  local- 
ities and  the  dates,  though  in  a  very  informal  way. 

I  have  for  several  years  in  my  travels  culled  duplicates  for  the  Buffalo 
Academy  of  Sciences — Judge  Clinton,  in  response  to  my  expressed  hesi- 
tancy in  sending  common  plants,  emphatically  saying  "  send  everything y 
I  consequently  obeyed  his  injunctions,  and  have%^x\\.  to  him  everything  in 
my  pathway.  He  is  so  enthusiastic  on  this  subject  that  it  has  been  a 
delight  to  me  to  please  him.  (He  has  encouraged  this  effort  by  occasion- 
ally praising  me  !) 

I  hope  the  plants  will  arrive  in  good  order,  and  that,  when  they  are 
properly  mounted,  you  will  have  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  result  of 
your  pupil's  efforts  in  wandering  about  our  country.  I  send  a  fine 
specimen  of  the  Gymnogramme  triangularis  of  California,  the  lovely 
golden  fern. 

From  Mrs.  Atwater  to  Mrs.  Phelps,  February  14,  1876: 

This  morning  one  of  our  managers  of  the  "  Old  People's  Home " 
called,  leaving  twenty  tickets  for  me  to  dispose  of  in  aid  of  an  "  exposi- 
tion" at  the  Home  for  the  benefit  of  our  old  ladies.  I  have  been  one  of 
the  managers  of  this,  my  favorite  charity,  many  years.  So  yon  see  I  have 
few  idle  moments — not  enough  for  my  physical  welfare.  In  a  city  like 
Chicago  one  can  never  fold  their  hands  in  idleness  without  violating  the 
injunction  to  "  love  your  neighbor  as  yourself." 

Mrs.  Atwater  writes: 

Buffalo,  Nov.  18, 1876. 
Saturday  P.  M. 
^Ty  Dear  Friend  Mrs.  Phelps  : 

I  have  treasured  up,  for  a  long  time  intending  to  forward  to  the  Society 
of  Natural  Sciences  at  Baltimore,  a  specimen  of  the  wonderful  snow 
plant,  Sarcedes  Sangiiinea,  of  Torrey.  I  send  it  first  to  you,  for  your 
inspection  at  your  leisure  at  home.  At  any  convenient  time  will  you  do 
me  the  kindness  of  forwarding  it  to  the  society.     The  society  may  be 


35 

supplied  with  specimens  of  the  plant ;  as  they  are  not  common,  venture 
to  send  it.  This  was  not  of  my  own  culling.  I  saw  but  one  growing 
during  my  California  explorations  ;  that  was  inaccessible  to  me.  The 
specimen  I  forward  was  plucked  in  the  mining  region  near  the  "  Calaveras 
Big  Trees,"  about  the  first  of  June,  1871,  by  Mr.  Stevens,  of  San  Fran- 
cisco. The  plant  is  described  as  singularly  beautiful.  It  grew  near  banks 
of  snow  three  feet  in  thickness,  at  the  edge  of  the  snow  bank  where  it 
was  melting.  The  entire  plant  is  of  a  brilliant  ruby  color,  beautiful 
beyond  expression. 

The  following  is  the  acknowledgment  of  the  receipt  of 
I\Irs.  Atwater's  contribution  : 

Baltimore,  March  2,  iSj^. 
Mrs.  Almira  H.  L.  Phelps  : 

It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  be  honored  with  the  privilege  of  convey- 
ing to  you  the  thanks  of  the  Maryland  Academy  of  Sciences  for  the  gift 
of  that  interesting  and  valued  specimen  of  Bryum  Atwaterii.  It  was 
examined  with  much  interest  by  many  of  the  members  present,  and  it 
would  have  been  admired  by  a  larger  number  on  that  occasion  but  for 
the  particularly  inclement  weather  of  Monday  evening.  I  return  at  the 
same  time  the  letter  of  Mrs.  Atwater.  Both  letters  were  read  before 
the  meeting,  and  were  the  occasion  of  polite  and  grateful  remarks  by 
several  of  the  gentlemen  present.  The  specimen  will  be  mounted  on  a 
sheet  of  our  stout  botanical  paper,  and  will  be  carefully  preserved  as 
another  mark  of  your  kind  interest  in  the  welfare  of  the  academy.  Every 
moment  of  my  time  has  been  commanded  by  necessary  duties,  or  I  should 
have  availed  myself  of  your  kind  invitation  to  call  upon  you. 
With  highest  respect  and  esteem,  yours  obediently, 

P.  R.  Uhler, 

President  M.  A.  S. 

Mrs.  Atwater  for  years  was  the  correspondent  of  Prof. 
Gray,  of  Harvard  College,  whose  works  on  botany  take  the 
precedence  of  all  others  in  America.  December  6,  187 1, 
Mrs.  Atwater  inclosed  to  Prof.  Gray  the  beautiful  stranger 


36 

of  a  flower  she  discovered  on  Nantucket.  The  following  is 
the  copy  of  the  letter,  which  since  her  death  has  been 
returned  by  Prof.  Gray,  for  that  purpose : 

Dear  Sir  :  In  the  summer  of  1868,  August  24  (I  think^,  I  discovered 
on  Nantucket  Island,  growing  wild  on  a  sandy  plain,  the  interesting  plant 
''Erica  Ciiteria."  On  the  day  following  this  discovery  I  left  the  island, 
having  no  opportunity  for  making  further  search  for  duplicate  plants,  but 
suppose  it  must  be  obtainable  in  other  localities  on  the  island.  Soon  after 
my  return  I  forwarded  specimens  of  the  plant  to  several  of  my  corre- 
spondents—Hon.  G.  W.  Clinton,  of  Buffalo,  Prof.  I.  A.  Lapham,  of  Mil- 
waukee, and  Charles  H.  Peck,  Esq.,  State  Botanist  at  Albany.  At  the 
solicitation  of  the  latter,  I  forwarded  to  him  a  plant  for  Mr.  Wood,  who 
gave  me  in  his  last  edition  credit  for  the  discovery.  Meanwhile,  several 
persons  had  written  for  specimens,  and  for  an  accurate  description  of  the 
locality  where  found.  The  former  I  supplied  until  my  stock  in  hand 
was  nearly  depleted  ;  the  latter  I  could  not  render  intelligently,  there 
being  so  few  prominent  landmarks  to  govern  one ;  in  fact,  I  was  so 
absorbed  in  the  plant  that  I  was  oblivious  to  all  external  objects  outside 
the  carriage  until  our  drive  was  concluded.  Since  that  time  many  persons 
have  been  disappointed  in  their  investigations  on  the  island,  and  I  fear 
have  questioned  my  veracity  !  I  am  most  happy  to  say  that  last  summer 
(1871)  our  niece  (Mrs.  Thomas  E.  Morris,  of  Saginaw,  Michigan,  who 
with  my  husband  and  a  little  niece  were  in  the  carriage  when  I  first  saw 
the  plant)  went  again  to  Nantucket,  with  my  strict  injunctions  to  search 
the  island  perseveringly,  and  redeem  my  reputation,  which  I  feared  was 
occupying  the  minds  of  some  indefatigable  botanists  unfavorably.  She 
did  so,  and  I  have  the  pleasure  of  offering  for  your  acceptance  one  of  the 
plants  plucked  in  the  summer  of  1871.  Mrs.  Morris  thinks  the  specimens 
•  she  has  recently  sent  me  were  plucked,  as  she  says,  "  from  the  same  old 
roots  ;"  and  nowhere  beside  on  the  island  could  she  find  the  plant. 

And  now,  sir,  I  owe  you  an  apology,  not  for  proffering  the  plant  (this 
I  am  emboldened  to  do  by  our  mutual  friend  Mrs.  Lewis),  but  for  the 
informal  preamble  which  I  really  felt  to  be  your  due.  I  have  taken  the 
liberty  to  inclose  a  Dianthus,  which  Prof.  Peck  thought  had  been  pre- 
viously found  in   the  State  of   New   York,   and  a  pink   Achillea  from 


37 

Trenton  Falls.  If  I  can  render  you  any  service  in  the  way  of  Western 
plants,  I  shall  do  so  most  cheerfully.  I  would  gladly  have  sent  you  a 
more  acceptable  specimen  of  the  Dianthus  were  it  not  that  "  since  the 
fire"  my  plants  have  been  inaccessible;  this  being  the  only  one  at  my 
command. 

Very  respectfully  yours, 

Mrs.  Sam'l  T.  Atwater. 

Among  the  mass  of  historical  matter  contributed  by  Mrs. 
Atwater  to  the  Chicago  Historical  Society,  was  complete 
files  of  all  the  daily  papers  printed  in  Chicago  from  the  tenth 
of  October,  187 1,  for  the  following  thirty  days,  which  were 
the  thirty  days  succeeding  the  great  conflagration,  in  which 
$200,000,000  of  property  was  destroyed  October  9,  187 1. 
Two  trunks  of  "fire  relics^"  picked  up  and  purchased  from 
different  localities  about  the  city,  and  each  sample  or  relic 
duly  labeled  as  to  the  places  were  found.  Two  hundred  and 
fifty-three  old  and  new  almanacs  from  1853  to  1878.  One 
box  containing  all  the  daily  papers  printed  in  Chicago,  giving 
a  minute  and  full  account  of  everything  pertaining  to  the 
Great  Sanitary  Fair,  held  in  Dearborn  Park,  Chicago,  1865, 
with  a  full  account  of  what  was  exhibited,  with  badges  and 
decorations,  programmes,  etc.  Complete  files  of  papers 
printed  in  all  the  cities  through  which  President  Lincoln's 
remains  passed  from  Washington  to  Springfield,  with  all  the 
proceedings  at  each  place,  and  a  full  account  of  the  assas- 
sination, with  all  the  programmes,  cards  of  admission  to  view 
the  remains  as  lying  in  state  at  the  Court  House  in  Chicago, " 
being  a  complete  history  of  that  event.  A  complete  history 
of  the  great  tunnel  at  Chicago,  under  Lake  Michigan,  two 
miles  to  the  crib,  from  and  by  which  the  city  of  Chicago  is 


38 

supplied,  with  a  diagram  of  the  tunnel,  crib,  etc.,  published 
at  the  time  of  the  inception  and  completion  of  the  wonder 
of  the  day.  A  large  amount  of  Confederate  currency,  and 
a  framed  picture  of  all  the  fractional  currency  of  the  Union 
government.  Medals,  too,  probably  150  or  more,  some  very 
beautiful  in  bronze,  marking  great  events,  and  with  printed 
scraps  giving  the  history  of  each. 

The  following  acknowledgment  was  sent  to  Mrs.  Baxter 
at  Washington : 

Chicago,  Dec.  11,  1878. 
Mrs.  Portus  Baxter  : 

Dear  Madam  :  I  found  your  name  so  frequently  associated  with  the 
valuable  contributions  made  lo  this  society  by  the  late  Mrs.  E.  E.  Atwater, 
that  I  wanted  to  see  you  and  learn  from  you  more  of  that  excellent  and 
remarkable  woman,  and  with  the  hope  that  you  might  be  in  the  city,  in 
September  last  I  wrote  your  son  and  expressed  that  wish.  As  I  have 
learned  your  address  by  your  esteemed  favor  of  the  gth  instant,  I  will 
take  occasion  to  invite  you  to  visit  this  Library  at  your  convenience,  and 
see  the  valuable  contributions  made  by  Mrs.  A. 

We  have  the  coins,  medals,  metallic  business  cards,  small  paper  cur- 
rency or  "  shinplasters "  and  continental  money  arranged  in  a  case  by 
themselves,  and  as  soon  as  we  get  the  pamphlets,  almanacs,  autograph 
letters,  etc.,  all  bound,  we  shall  have  another  case  made  expressly  for  the 
books,  fire  and  war  "  relics,"  and  other  historical  mementos,  all  of  which 
will  be  properly  designated  "  The  Atwater  Collection." 

On  the  eighteenth  of  last  June,  at  a  meeting  of  the  Chicago  Historical 
Society,  a  resolution  was  unanimously  adopted  expressing  the  thanks  of 
the  society  for  the  interesting  and  valuable  contributions  of  Mrs.  Atwater, 
a  copy  of  which  was  spread  upon  the  records  of  the  society,  and  a  notice 
of  it  communicated  to  Mr.  Atwater.  In  addition  to  this,  after  enume- 
rating the  various  articles  presented,  I  read  a  brief  biographical  notice 
of  Mrs.  Atwater,  which  was  also  spread  upon  our  records,  and  subse- 
quently published  in  the  Chicago  Evening  Journalf  a  copy  of  which  I 
sent  to  Mr.  Atwater. 


39 

Agreeably  to  your  suggestion,  I  send  herewith  a  copy  of  the  resolutions 
adopted  by  this  society. 

Very  respectfully, 

Albert  D.  IIager, 

Secretary  and  Librarian. 

Resolved,  That  for  the  many  valuable  contributions  made  to  this  society 
by  the  late  Mrs.  E.  E.  Atwater,  we  gratefully  express  our  thanks,  and 
direct  the  secretary  to  make  a  record  of  the  same. 

The  above  was  unanimously  and  heartily  adopted  by  the  Chicago  His- 
torical Society,  June  i8,  1S7S. 

A.  D.  Hager,  Secretary. 

The  following  is  the  biographical  sketch  referred  to  by 
Prof  Hager : 

GONE  BUT  NOT  FORGOTTEN. 

A  Touching  Tribute  to  Real  Worth— The  Late  Mrs.  S.  T. 
Atwater. 

Many  of  our  citizens  who  attended  the  fair  given  at  the  Jefferson  Street 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church  in  February,  1S76,  will  recollect  the  beau- 
tiful and  rare  collection  of  mosaics  exhibited,  and  which  were  loaned  for 
the  occasion  by  Mrs.  S.  T.  Atwater,  of  Chicago.  Mrs.  Atwater  was 
a  sister  of  Curtis  Emerson  of  this  city,  was  a  lady  of  rare  accomplish- 
ments, and  was  known  to  many  of  our  citizens.  She  was  an  accomplished 
botanist,  and  corresponded  with  Profs.  Gray,  Clinton,  etc.,  and  she  was 
also  the  discoverer  of  a  new  species  of  California  plant,  to  which  the 
scientists  have  given  her  name  and  credited  to  her  in  the  later  text-books. 
It  will  be  recollected  that  Mrs,  Atwater  died  last  April.  In  connection 
with  the  above  the  following  extract  from  an  address  delivered  before  the 
Chicago  Historical  Society,  by  Prof.  Albert  D.  Hager,  Secretary,  at  the 
last  meeting,  will  be  of  interest : 

"Mrs.  Elizabeth  (Emerson)  Atwater,  who  for  several  years  was  a 
resident  of  this  city  and  a  patron  of  its  charitable  institutions,  was  born 
in  Norwich,  Vermont,  August  8,  1812. 


40 

"  She  improved  the  excellent  opportunities  offered  her  for  obtaining  an 
education,  and  was  a  graduate  of  Mrs.  Emma  Willard's  Seminary,  Troy, 
New  York.  Upon  the  receipt  of  her  diploma  she  did  not  quit  her  studies, 
but  was  an  active  student  till  the  day  of  her  death,  which  occurred  in 
Buffalo,  New  York,  April  ii,  1878. 

"  Mrs.  Atwater  was  interested  in  several  departments  of  science,  but 
botany  was  her  favorite  study,  her  large  herbarium  gave  evidence  that 
she  collected  plants  wherever  she  went.  During  a  sojourn  in  California 
she  collected,  preserved  and  labeled,  over  two  thousand  specimens,  several 
of  which  were  new  to  science.  In  conchology,  mineralogy  and  paleon- 
tology, she  made  large  collections  ;  these  too  were  all  carefully  and  accu- 
rately labeled.  She  did  not  make  these  collections  for  herself  exclusively, 
but  shared  them  with  her  scientific  friends,  and  gave  liberally  to  the 
Buffalo  and  Maryland  academies  of  science,  of  which  she  was  a  member. 
At  the  time  of  her  decease  she  had  thirty  boxes  filled  with  botanical  and 
other  scientific  specimens.  These  she  requested  her  husband  to  give  to 
the  Chicago  Academy  of  Sciences.  He  has  faithfully  complied  with  her 
request,  and  they  are  now  safely  deposited  in  that  institution. 

"  It  was  not  in  the  field  of  science  alone  that  Mrs.  Atwater  labored. 
The  study  of  history  and  the  preservation  of  historic  facts  also  claimed 
her  attention.  She  not  only  exhumed  history  from  the  records  of  the 
dead  past,  but  caught  it  on  the  wing  of  the  living  present.  In  the  same 
cdllection  where  she  had  packed  two  hundred  and  fifty-one  old  almanacs 
and  other  old  documents  marked  "  For  the  Historical  Society,"  there 
were  pamphlets  and  newspapers  and  hundreds  of  newspaper  slips  or 
clippings  of  modern  date,  each  appropriately  assorted  and  marked.  In 
one  package  were  slips  referring  to  Abraham  Lincoln  and  his  peculiar- 
ities ;  in  another  to  his  assassination  and  the  funeral  obsequies  that  fol- 
lowed. Other  packages  were  composed  of  slips  referring  to  the  war,  to 
the  great  fire  of  1871,  to  the  rebuilding  of  Chicago,  to  the  construction 
of  its  tunnels,  to  the  sanitary  fair  of  Chicago,  the  Home  fair  of  Milwau- 
kee ;  and  accompanying  these  were  specimens  of  the  badges  worn  and 
numerous  mementos  from  the  battle-field,  the  great  fire  ;  and,  indeed,  the 
records  of  every  historic  event  that  has  transpired  during  the  last  fifteen 
or  twenty  years  has  been  carefully  preserved  by  this  industrious  and 
thoughtful  lady  and  generously  given  to  this  society.  Were  we  writing  a 
biographical  memoir  of  Mrs.  Atwater  in  extenso,  we   would  give  in 


41 

detail  her  efforts  in  organizing  and  sustaining  the  *  Old  People's  Home ' 
and  other  charitable  institutions  of  this  city,  and  tell  how  earnestly  she 
worked  for  the  Humane  Society,  and  cite  instances  of  her  active  benev- 
olence ;  but  in  this  brief  notice  it  must  suffice  to  say  that  through  her 
efforts  science  has  been  promoted,  historic  records  have  been  secured  and 
preserved,  the  aged  and  infirm  have  been  provided  for,  the  sorrowful 
have  been  made  happy,  and  could  the  dumb  animals  speak  they  would 
bless  her  memory.  It  may  in  truth  be  said  the  world  is  made  the  better 
for  her  having  lived  in  it." 

Mrs.  Atwater  bequeathed  thirty  boxes  of  valuable  speci- 
mens to  the  Chicago  Academy  of  Sciences,  and  the  follow- 
ing resolution,  in  appreciation  of  the  gift,  was  unanimously 
adopted  by  the  members  of  that  association  : 

Whereas,  The  late  Mrs.  Elizabeth  E.  Atwater,  for  several  years 
an  honored  resident  of  this  city,  during  her  lifetime  made  a  large,  valuable 
and  carefully-arranged  collection  of  specimens  of  natural  history,  which 
she  requested  should  be  presented  to  this  academy  by  her  husband, 
Samuel  T.  Atwater,  Esq.,  now  of  Buffalo,  New  York  ;  and, 

Whereas,  Mr.  Atwater  has  faithfully  complied  with  the  wishes  of  his 
deceased  wife,  and  forwarded  some  thirty  boxes  of  specimens  to  this 
institution  ;  now,  therefore. 

Resolved,  That  for  this  munificent  donation,  and  for  the  fidelity,  prompt- 
ness and  care  exercised  by  Mr.  Atwater  in  carrying  out  the  wishes  of  his 
deceased  wife,  the  members  of  this  academy  hereby  express  their  hearty 
thanks,  and  direct  that  a  copy  of  this  preamble  and  resolution  be  spread 
upon  the  records  of  the  academy,  and  also  that  a  copy  of  the  same  be 
sent  to  Mr.  Atwater. 

At  the  annual  meeting  of  the  managers  of  the  "  Old  Peo- 
ple's Home,"  held  at  Chicago,  May,  1878,  the  following 
preamble  and  resolution  was  passed  and  entered  upon 
record  : 


42 

Whereas,  Death  has  again  taken  one  of  our  co-workers,  Mrs.  Eliza- 
beth E.  Atwater,  be  it 

Resolved,  That  the  managers  of  the  "  Old  People's  Home "  have 
learned  with  sincere  sorrow  of  the  death  of  Mrs.  Elizabeth  E,  Atwater, 
who  died  at  Buffalo,  New  York,  April  ii,  1S7S,  after  a  long  and  painful 
illness. 

She  had  been  connected  with  this  society  from  its  earliest  organization 
in  1861,  a  period  of  seventeen  years. 

She  was  one  of  its  most  interested  and  active  managers — faithful  in  the 
discharge  of  the  duties  devolved  upon  her.  She  won  the  love  and  esteem 
not  only  of  her  associates,  but  of  the  inmates  of  the  Home,  for  whose 
welfare  and  happiness  she  constantly  labored. 

It  is  but  a  just  tribute  to  the  memory  of  the  departed  to  say,  that,  in 
regretting  her  removal  from  our  midst,  we  mourn  for  one  who  was  every 
way  worthy  of  our  respect  and  love. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

Last  Days — Last  Letters — Last  Hours. 

'T^O  one  who  has  loved  to  live,  to  whom  life  has  come  al- 
ways full  of  blessing,  the  saddest  days  are  the  last  spent 
in  this  wondrous  world.  Then  the  shadows  deepen  and 
close  in  upon  the  sight.  Behind,  the  harvests  are  reaped  and 
gathered.  Before,  no  vast  horizons  open  above  the  earth. 
The  last  dark  river  is  reached.  The  startled  spirit  pauses 
on  the  brink,  turns  backward  a  gaze  of  unutterable  love  on 
the  garnered  treasures  of  a  whole  life — its  work,  its  trophies, 
its  friends,  the  best,  the  dearest,  all  to  be  left.  With  our 
best  faith,  what  waits  just  the  other  side,  who  may  know.? 
Who  can  tell  ?  But  this  we  are  sure  of,  that  which  we  leave 
behind  still  holds  our  hearts  with  hooks  of  steel.  Thus 
Mrs.  Atwater  writes  to  her  dearest  friend  "  Janette,"  from 
Buffalo,  January  30,  1878: 

The  parting-time  must  come  to  us  all.  But  it  is  sad  to  leave  this  beau 
tiful  world  so  at  variance  with  it  as  all  this  physical  torture  renders 
one.         ********* 

May  God  spare  you  yet  a  long  time  to  your  dear  children  and  friends. 
I  am  willing  and  ready  to  obey  His  summons  when  it  shall  come  ;  still 
life  is  dear  to  me  for  the  sake  of  loved  friends.  I  have  never  been  a 
society  woman,  my  whole  nature  has  revolted  at  it,  but  I  have  realized 
great  enjoyment  with  Nature,  with  dear  friends,  and  in  my  pursuits. 


44 

This  is  the  last  letter  to  her  life-long  friend.  After  more 
than  sixty  years  of  unwavering  attachment,  it  was  her  tribute 
to  the  lovely  human  life  she  had  lived,  the  life  that  she  hon- 
ored and  loved,  and  for  which  she  thanked  God.  Yet  to 
those  who  know  best  the  active  benevolence  of  her  life,  its 
tenderness  to  the  helpless,  its  care  of  the  needy,  its  ceaseless 
charity,  as  diffusive  and  pervasive  as  it  was  widely  intelligent ; 
nothing  in  this  summing  up  of  her  life  is  more  remarkable 
or  touching  than  its  humility  and  utter  lack  of  self-conscious 
assertion. 

To  her  friend — herself  that  moment  passing  before  the 
door  of  the  Valley  of  Shadows — life  looked  different.  Dear 
friends  and  dearer  children  were  still  left  to  her;  but  the 
dearest  of  all,  the  husband  of  her  youth,  had  passed  on  be- 
fore, and  the  bodies  of  four  of  her  children  rested  within 
the  circle  of  those  far-away  beloved  Vermont  hills.  More 
beckoned  her  from  the  other  side  than  staid  behind  to  hold 
her  here.  The  joy  and  loss  of  motherhood  had  never  come  to 
Mrs.  Atwater.  She  had  many  and  dear  friends.  But  the 
supreme  pang  of  parting  came  to  her  when  she  looked  upon 
the  one  she  was  to  leave  desolate.  The  dear  comrade  who, 
for  so  many  faithful  years,  had  been  an  unfailing  staff  to  her 
tender  feet,  screening  her  from  all  the  world's  rude  contacts; 
sheltering  her  that  even  the  winds  of  heaven  might  not  touch 
her  gentle  cheek  too  roughly ;  saving  her  from  every  earthly 
ill.  He  had  saved  her  from  everything  hard  to  meet  but  the 
Angel  of  Death.  When  he  came  and  would  not  be  hindered, 
what  desolation  entered  one  soul — and  it  was  not  hers  !  To 
me  there  is  something  piteously  touching  in  the  last  days 


45 

these  two  shared  together  on  earth.  As  there  must  always 
be  something  piteous  in  the  final  severance  of  any  long, 
sweet  human  relation.  It  was  born  in  spring — their  love — 
in  the  tender  warmth  of  youth  and  hope ;  it  grew  the  more 
beautiful  and  strong  in  life's  summer;  but  all  the  same  came 
the  dreary  winter  of  its  rending — nor  tears,  nor  prayers  could 
save  it  on  the  earth.  But  as  the  earthly  life  recedes  and 
wanes  the  heavenly  light  shines  more  strongly  and  purely  in. 
As  early  as  November  12,  1877,  she  writes  in  her  journal : 

I  must  now  say  adieu  to  our  old  pleasant  home  on  Lake  Jklichigan 
shore. 

In  June,  1877,  she  had  written  to  her  friend  of  this  home: 

One  look  at  the  calm,  green  waters  of  Lake  Michigan  quells  all 
anxieties. 

T.  seems  really  happy  to  take  the  Evening  Journal  at  the  window,  with 
one  eye  on  it  and  one  on  the  lake. 

At  the  final  leaving  of  this  beautiful  home,  in  utter  faith, 
she  writes : 

God  be  praised  through  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ  for  all  His 
mercies  vouchsafed  to  us,  for  all  His  forbeaiance  with  us.  May  He  go  with 
us  where  we  go,  guide  us  by  His  counsel,  and  afterwards  receive  us  and 
all  whom  He  has  given  us  to  love  into  glory. 

Again,  December  30,  1877  : 

The  last  Sabbath  of  the  year  !  What  a  year  of  suffering  I  have  experi- 
enced. God  has  mercifully  preserved  us.  May  He  continue  to  care 
for  us. 


46 

But  as  the  pangs  of  physical  suffering  increased  and  the 
inevitable  end  drew  near,  there  was  no  outcry,  no  murmur, 
only  a  gentle  putting  of  the  dissolving  house  in  order,  that 
when  its  final  dissolution  came  there  could  be  no  unavailing 
regret.  Not  an  object  in  her  possession  that  did  not  have 
its  place  and  final  destination  placed  upon  record.  Not 
only  had  thousands  of  plants  and  specimens  been  classified 
and  labeled  by  her  delicate  hands  with  laborious  care,  but 
not  a  friend  or  acquaintance  in  her  last  suffering  days  was 
forgotten.  It  was  at  this  time  that  a  little  package  arrived 
from  her  to  the  writer  which  called  forth  the  following  letter. 
At  that  time  a  prisoner  in  my  room,  from  the  effects  of  an 
accident,  a  disabled  hand  traced  the  letter  without  delay,  so 
fearful  was  I  that  Mrs.  Atwater  might  pass  where  no  letter 
could  reach  her  before  it  could  arrive  in  Buffalo,  and  so 
desirous  was  I  that  before  she  left  the  earth  she  should  know 
from  myself  what  she  was  to  me  as  a  woman.  As  my  one  last 
personal  tribute  to  her  in  life  I  here  record  it : 

Dear  Mrs.  Atwater: 

A  little  more  than  a  week  ago,  as  I  sat  by  my  window  one  morning 
I  saw  an  express  wagon  stop  ;  and,  as  my  brother  often  sends  packages 
to  my  mother,  the  thought  never  occurred  to  me  that  anything  had 
arrived  for  me.  Imagine  my  surprise  and  delight  a  very  few  moments 
later  when  I  opened  the  pretty  box  and  discovered,  within  it  another 
prettier  box.  It  was  more  than  kind  of  you,  dear  Mrs.  Atwater,  to  send 
this  to  me.  I  shall  keep  it  for  the  sake  of  the  giver  as  long  as  I  live. 
I  have  nothing  at  all  like  it.  I  am  glad  of  that.  It  is  an  exquisite 
little  thing,  like  its  giver,  and  I  shall  never  look  upon  it  without  think- 
ing of  you,  and  I  shall  see  it  very  often  for  it  is  on  the  table  before  me 
in  mv  own  room. 


47 

I  think  often,  dear  Mrs.  Atwater,  if  I  outlive  you,  how  much  more  I 
shall  miss  you  out  of  the  world  than  many  with  whom  I  have  spent  much 
more  time  on  the  earth. 

I  have  not  only  long  known  you  intimately  through  your  life-long 
friend,  Mrs.  Baxter ;  but,  in  the  realm  of  nature,  you  have  seemed  a 
close  kin  to  me.  I  have  a  little  California  fern  that  you  gave  me  long 
ago,  and  every  time  I  look  at  it  (and  that  is  often),  it  seems  to  bind  me 
anew  to  you.  It  is  so  fine,  so  perfect,  so  appealing — this  most  delicate 
expression  of  nature — and  through  all  the  vicissitudes  of  life  the  children 
of  the  natural  world  have  been  so  much  to  7ne — no  matter  where  or  how 
life  failed  me  otherwise — I  have  always  found  rest  and  peace  under  a  tree. 
Your  great  love  for  nature,  your  fine  perception,  your  keen  appreciation 
of  all  her  most  exquisite  forms,  your  love  for  this  great  tender  mother  of 
ours,  has  always  made  you  dear  among  women  to  me. 

And  another  trait  in  your  nature  has  brought  you  even  nearer — your 
wonderful  sympathy  for  the  dumb  creatures  of  God,  made  to  appeal  so 
piteously,  yet  so  often,  in  vain  to  the  human  kind.  Your  heart  is  large 
enough  to  hold  all  God's  creatures — the  dumb,  the  voiceless — so  you  see 
I  have  no  uncertain  reason  for  holding  you  dear  upon  the  earth. 

I  am  not  so  great  a  "  philosopher  "  as  you  think.  I  meet  calmly,  as 
we  all  must,  the  inevitable.  But  to  the  final  parting  of  dear  friends,  I 
never  in  my  heart  feel  reconciled.  It  is  so  hard — even  the  promise  of 
re-union  does  not  quite  comfort  me.  If  I  love  my  friend  at  all,  I  must 
love  her  as  long  as  I  exist  in  this  life  or  in  another.  So  no  one  dear  dies 
to  me.  I  sigh  for  her.  I  cry  to  see  her;  but,  though  I  see  her  not,  she 
ever  abides  with  me  as  utterly  as  if  I  saw  her  always. 

In  your  sickness,  I  sympathize  as  deeply  with  Mr.  Atwater  as  with 
you.  It  must  be  as  hard  for  him  to  see  you  suffer,  as  for  you  to  suffer. 
My  heart  aches  for  him.  As  for  you  it  seems  as  if  I  could  not  have 
it  so.     *     *     *     * 

Dear  Mrs.  Atwater  accept  my  tenderest  sympathy  and  prayers,  my 
life-long,  loving  memory.  If  not  here,  then  hei^eafter  lue  shall  meet  again, 
where  there  is  no  more  parting  nor  dying,  nor  any  more  pain.  With 
kindest  regard  to  Mr.  Atwater  and  the  most  sympathetic  love  for 
yourself. 

Your  friend, 

Mary   Clemmer. 


48 

It  is  a  long  way  back  to  the  girlish  letters,  full  of  youth, 
hope,  happiness  and  girlish  affection,  written  in  the  wide 
bright  rooms  of  the  old  Vermont  homesteads. 

Now  these  two  women  had  planted,  reaped  and  garnered 
their  harvests.  Life  had  brought  to  them  both  love  and  its 
fruitions.  It  had  brought  to  them  also  loss.  Death  more 
than  once  had  brought  them  desolation.  One  thing  had 
outlived  everything — unwavering,  imperishable — their  love 
for  each  other.  It  glows  unworn,  undimmed  in  their  last 
letters  to  each  other,  as  it  did  fifty  years  before  in  their  first. 
Such  a  friendship  not  only  sweetens  life,  it  makes  it  larger 
and  richer.  Reaching  on  to  "the  Communion  of  Saints" 
within  the  vale,  it  strengthens  one's  faith  in  immortality. 
For  the  earth  it  makes  us  surer  of  womanhood  by  holding  it 
inviolable  in  the  high  fine  atmosphere  of  fidelity  and  un- 
changeable affection.  A  devotion  between  two  women  that 
never  swerved  through  sixty  years  of  mortal  chance  and 
change  should  be  set  high  in  honorable  record. 

In  "  Janette's  "  last  letter  to  her  friend,  written  but  a  few 
days  before  that  friend's  death,  and  just  after  she  herself  had 
been  down  to  the  very  door  of  the  Valley  of  Death,  we  find 
a  spray  of  arbutus,  just  such  an  one  as  the  girl  might  have 
gathered  fifty  years  before  out  of  the  mossy  coverts  of  the 
woods  at  Strafford,  and  one  of  the  last  acts  of  that  friend's 
life  was  to  place  with  her  own  hands  into  a  beautiful  box 
some  of  the  daintiest  treasures  in  her  possession,  including 
the  rose-colored,  strawberry-flecked  neck-ribbon  given  to 
her  by  "  Janette  "  nearly  forty  years  before,  now  returned  to 
its   giver   with   other   exquisite   personal   belongings.     In   a 


49 

letter  written  by  her  to  "  J^^nette  "  from  the  Gardner  House, 
Chicago,  June  9,  1877,  she  says  of  this  necktie: 

What  think  you  I  saw  when  packing  to  leave  591  ?  The  pretty  little 
necktie — pink  ground  with  white  and  red  strawberries  embroidered  on 
it — your  gift  to  me  when  married  !  just  as  bright  and  pretty  as  ever  ! 

This  box  for  her  friend  was  discovered  after  her  death, 
containing,  in  her  own  handwriting  on  a  slip  of  paper,  this 
inscription  : 

To  My  Dear  Friend  Janette,  from  Ella. 

Mrs.  Atwater  wrote  to  Mrs.  Baxter  from  Buffalo,  No- 
vember 27,  1877,  the  first  detailed  account  of  her  disease; 
She  said : 

My  Dear  Friend  Janette  : 

I  have  not  been  unmindful  of  your  kind  remembrances,  the  parcel  of 
Vermont  ferns  and  autumn  leaves,  and  your  kind  letter  received  October 
23d. 

You  are  aware,  through  T.'s  letter  to  the  Doctor,  that  I  have  been  very 
ill.  He  told  him,  doubtless,  that  two  of  our  most  responsible  physicians, 
having  made  a  thorough  investigation,  pronounce  me  a  "  very  interesting 
case."  Flattering — consoling — is  it  not?  It  is  right  that  we  endure 
physical  suffering,  I  suppose,  where  science  can  be  advanced. 

Honestly,  Janette,  I  do  not  anticipate  any  permanent  relief,  and  must 
summon  even  more  than  my  wonted  fortitude  to  endure  to  the  end.  My 
cough  is  more  spasmodic  than  continuous.  The  effort  of  coughing  in- 
creases the  pain  at  the  point  of  the  right  shoulder,  which,  at  times,  is  so 
severe  as  to  require  sharp  external  applications  for  temporary  relief.  I 
can  only  rest  in  one  position — on  my  left  side — which,  added  to  my  other 
tribulations,  renders  the  nights  somewhat  dubious.  Six  o'clock  in  the 
morning  is  my  signal  for  leaving  my  wearisome  couch. 
4  . 


50 

We  had  charming  weather  for  our  trip.  Dr.  C.  forbid  my  leaving  until 
we  had  experienced  two  days  of  sunny  weather.  They  came  at  last.  He 
said  he  should  be  thankful  to  have  me  deposited  safely  in  Buffalo,  for 
company  counteracted  all  the  good  he  might  do  for  me.  He  positively 
denied  company  and  conversation.  (The  idea — so  beyond  all  precedent 
— of  a  woman  holding  her  tongue.)  Notwithstanding  these  injunctions, 
I  received  eighteen  visitors  on  the  day  of  our  departure.  Had  not  left 
my  room  in  nearly  three  weeks  when  we  were  whirled  into  the  depot. 
*  *  *  The  old-time  picture  en  route  of  gathering  winter  apples 
from  prolific  orchards  was  the  first  absolutely  refreshing  scene  that  had 
greeted  me  in  many  a  day.         -sf******* 

Among  the  last  letters  written  at  this  time,  was  her  last  to 
her  dear  friend  and  teacher  Mrs.  Lincoln  Phelps,  of  Balti- 
more.    She  writes,  Christmas,  1877  : 

I  cannot  let  the  Christmas  of  1877  and  1878  come  and  pass  without 
giving  expression  to  my  unabated  interest  in  and  my  deep-rooted  affec- 
tion for  you. 

You  will  perceive  that  I  write  from  Buffalo.  l\Iy  physicians  decided 
that  hotel  life  was  to  exciting  for  me  in  my  prostrate  condition.  We  have 
therefore  come  to  the  home  of  my  husband's  niece  for  the  winter.  I  am 
a  recluse  confined  entirely  to  the  house,  and  mostly  to  my  room.  My 
disease — solidification  of  the  right  lung,  with  other  threatening  symptoms 
of  an  alarming  character. 

She  goes  on  to  describe  minutely  to  her  friend  the  com- 
forts and  happiness  of  the  home  to  which  she  had  come — 
the  home  of  her  husband's  niece,  Mrs.  Sexton,  where  a  little 
more  than  four  months  later  she  entered  into  everlasting 
rest. 

As  the  shadows  deepened,  and  she  drew  step  by  step  the 
nearer  to  the  brink  of  the  final  river,  we  know  how  she  felt 
by  the  last  letter  which  she  wrote  to  her  friend  "Janette  " 
in  Washington.     She  said  : 


51 

Buffalo,  January  jo,  iSyS. 
My  Dear  Janette  : 

The  old  year  has  bid  us  farewell,  and  the  new  year  is  making  rapid 
strides  toward  the  same  bourne — its  termination,  and  you  and  I,  physical 
sufiferers,  are  mercifully  spared.  I  know  not  how  it  is  with  you,  but  a 
continued  earthly  existence  is  with  me  hardly  desirable.  So  long  as  you 
can  breathe,  Janette,  do  not  murmur.  My  respiration  is  very  laborious. 
The  effect  of  walking  across  the  room  deprives  me  of  the  power  of  speech 
until  I  have  a  little  recovered.  My  cough  is  exhausting  and  the  pain  in 
my  shoulder  terrific.  Were  they  both  continuous  I  could  not  long  sur- 
vive. Last  night  my  shoulder  was  painted  with  morphine  and  iodine  on 
retiring.  Whether  I  have  become  more  than  ordinarily  sensitive  I  can- 
not say,  but  I  am  frantic  with  the  smarting  until  one  o'clock.  I  have  not 
been  so  affected  in  the  other  applications.  So,  Janette,  if  it  is  not  one 
trial,  it  is  another.  Our  physician,  fortunately,  is  only  three  doors  from 
us  ;  we  were  compelled  to  summon  him  a  few  nights  since  at  two  o'clock. 
He  remained  an  hour  with  me.  He  is  pronounced  the  best  homeopa- 
thist  in  the  city. 

After  detailing  her  symptoms,  T)rs.  Cook  and  Johnson's 
diagnosis,  she  writes : 

Were  it  not  too  late  when  the  discoveries  were  made  I  should  have 
gone  straight  to  Washington  to  consult  Dr.  Jed.  However,  the  parting 
time  must  come  to  us  all,  but  it  is  sad  to  leave  this  beautiful  world  so  at 
variance  with  it  as  all  this  physical  torture  renders  one.  I  am  confined 
wholly  to  my  room — have  been  for  three  weeks.  My  rations  are  one-half 
a  quail  at  a  meal.  On  yesterday  I  sent  down  my  entire  breakfast  un- 
touched ;  have  no  appetite,  no  rest.  My  good  "  T."  is  devotion  itself, 
and  will  permit  no  one  to  do  the  slightest  service  for  me.  Only  occasion- 
ally I  receive  a  friend  in  my  apartments,  then  with  the  injunction  thev  do 
all  the  talking. 

Now,  Janette,  I  am  only  too  happy  to  read  from  your  letter  that  you 
can  sleep,  and  converse,  and  eat.  May  God  spare  you  yet  a  long  time  to 
your  dear  children  and  friends.  I  am  willing  and  ready  to  obey  His  sum- 
mons when  it  doth  come  ;  still  life  is  dear  to  me  for  the  sake  of  loved 
friends.     I  have  never  been  a  societv  woman.     Mv  whole  nature  has  re- 


52 

volted  at  it,  but  I  have  realized  great  enjoyment  with  nature,  with  dear 
friends,  and  in  my  pursuits.  Let  me  hear  just  how  you  are  when  you  are 
inclined  to  use  the  pen.  I  have  not  written  of  late,  save  when  it  was  im- 
perative. A  letter  has  just  come  from  the  south  of  France,  from  our  dear 
friends  the  Andersons  ;  say  they  will  be  here  in  June.  I  can  hardly  ex- 
pect to  greet  them^— possibly  may. 

Mr.  Gooding  is  failing  daily.  Emma  M.  Taylor,  of  Havana,  has  re- 
cently sent  me,  from  Cuba,  a  little  box  of  curiosities.  In  her  letter  she 
deplores  her  father's  condition.  Did  the  holidays  give  you  pleasure? 
They  were  sad  to  me.  If  elegant  presents  would  make  one  joyous,  I 
should  have  been  so.  I  was  only  sorry  I  could  not  reciprocate  as  of  old. 
I  regret  to  learn  through  Maria  of  Mrs.  Clemmer's  sad  accident.  I  shall 
make  an  effort  to  write  her,  inclosing  my  note  to  Maria,  as  I  know  not 
her  address.  I  did  not  anticipate  claiming  so  much  of  your  lime  as  a 
perusal  of  this  long  letter  demands,  but  I  have  not  written  to  you  in  so 
long  a  time. 

I  should  be  overjoyed  to  see  the  Doctor  and  his  wife  "  in  the  spring," 
as  you  say,  "  en  route  "  to  California.  If  all  is  well  with  us  I  see  not  why 
this  may  not  be  possible.  We  have  not,  as  yet,  contemplated  spring  ar- 
rangements, there  are  so  many  dreary  winter  weeks  to  intervene.  Strange 
as  it  may  seem  to  you,  we  pine  for  Chicago  and  our  Chicago  friends. 

When  Mrs.  Baxter  received  this  letter  her  own  life  trem- 
bled in  the  balance.  Months  later  it  was  given  back  to  the 
many  who  love  her,  by  a  skillful  surgical  operation.  After 
she  had  passed  through  this  trial,  which  so  easily  might  have 
ended  in  death,  she,  still  feeble  from  suffering,  wrote  her  last 
brief  letter  to  the  friend  of  her  youth,  sending  it  with  the 
spray  of  arbutus,  so  full  of  youth  and  spring,  into  the  cham- 
ber of  decline  and  final  triumph. 

She  writes : 

AfarcA  g,  1878. 
My  Dearest  E.  : 

Thanks  for  your  kind  and  heartfelt  congratulations.  Yes  !  I  passed 
through  a  severe  ordeal  successfully.     The  preliminaries  were  anything 


53 

but  pleasant.  The  success  seems  sure,  but  I  assure  you  the  fact  that  yoti, 
my  dearest  friend,  are  still  suffering,  detracts  from  my  own  rejoicing 
exceedingly.  Your  suffering  is  constantly  in  my  thoughts,  and  I  vainly 
wish  some  permanent  relief  could  be  discovered.  You  know  I  am  with 
you  in  spirit  as  I  would  most  surely  be  in  flesh  were  it  possible.  *  * 
I  am  still  weak,  but  the  wound  is  healing.  God  bless  and  comfort  you 
both  !  Ever  devotedly, 

Janette. 

I  believe  the  last  letter  Mrs.  Atwater  ever  wrote,  she 
wrote  to  her  friend's  daughter-in-law,  Mrs.  Florence  Baxter, 
wife  of  Dr.  J.  H.  Baxter,  Chief  Medical  Purveyer,  U.  S.  A., 
Washington,  D.  C. 

176  Franklin  Street,  Buffalo, 

March  2,  1878. 
Dear  Mrs.  Baxter  : 

If  it  must  be  so — if  dear  Janette  must  pass  through  that  terrible 
ordeal — thanks  to  you  for  so  kindly  and  clearly  conveying  the  intelligence. 
I  was  greatly  shocked  and  grieved,  as  you  can  well  imagine.  The  more 
I  reflect  upon  the  matter  the  more  reconciled  I  become,  especially  as  my 
physician  assures  me  there  is  no  fear  of  a  return  of  the  disease.  He  has 
performed  a  similar  operation  successfully — removing  one  breast — the 
lady  at  present  being  in  perfect  health.  His  only  surprise  being  that  the 
operation  was  so  long  deferred.  Of  what  a  burden  are  all  your  minds 
relieved.  The  promise  of  health  to  the  dear  invalid — dear  to  so  many 
hearts — and  the  hope  of  her  charming  presence  among  you  all  for  years 
to  come  must  throw  a  roseate  hue  upon  all  your  surroundings.  God  be 
praised  for  the  attainments  of  science.  Would  that  they  might  have 
fathom.ed  my  case.  I  will  not  speak  of  myself  to-day.  When  Janette 
has  recuperated  a  little,  if  I  can  guide  my  pen,  we  will  held  converse. 
I  responded  to  Mrs.  Clemmer's  kind  note  a  few  days  since — this  morn- 
ing only  have  taken  up  my  pen  again.  Thank  you  for  your  very  kind 
letter. 

My  husband  is  writing  to  Mrs.  Gooding,  relative  to  Janette's  condition. 
In  the  event  of  any  unfavorable  change,  which  is  hardly  to  be  thought 
of,  pray  let  us  be  advised. 


54 

Mr.  Atwater  joins  me  in  the  most  cordial  love  and  congratulations  to 
dear  Janette,  the  Doctor  and  yourself.     Believe  me,  dear  Mrs.  Baxter, 

Your  warm  friend, 

Elizabeth  E.  Atwater. 

The  handwriting  of  this  letter,  written  scarcely  a  month 
before  her  death,  shows  in  unwavering  lines  the  same  beau- 
tiful precision  which  was  remarkable  in  her  youth,  and  shows 
with  equal  luster  the  unselfishness  of  her  character,  which, 
amid  the  agony  of  her  own  dissolving  nature,  thought  first 
most  tenderly  of  her  friends,  last  of  herself. 

In  great  suffering,  but  with  peace  profound,  she  passed 
into  the  final  sleep  and  the  forgetting. 

Of  those  last  hours  that  cloud  this  mortal  life  and  opened 
on  the  life  everlasting,  we  find  the  touching  account  in  the 
words  of  Mr.  Atwater,     He  writes  to  Mrs.  Baxter  from 

Buffalo,  April  i8, 1878. 
My  Very  Dear  Friend: 

Your  very  kind  note  of  the  fourteenth  is  at  hand,  and  pray  accept  my 
heartfelt  thanks  for  it  and  its  expressions  of  sympathy  in  my  behalf. 
From  the  relationship  which  has  ever  existed  between  yourself  and  my 
poor  departed  wife,  I  can  never  cease  to  love  you  as  her  dearest,  best 
friend. 

She  suffered  long  and  most  intensely,  and  patiently.  Begged  her  phy- 
sician not  to  administer  any  medicine  which  would  prolong  her  life.  She 
was  ready,  willing  and  anxious  to  depart  and  be  freed  from  the  constant 
agony  and  suffering.  She  retained  her  consciousness  up  to  about  six 
o'clock  P.  M.  of  the  tenth,  and  from  that  time  until  she  died  (ten  and  one- 
half  o'clock  A.  M.  of  the  eleventh)  she  was  unconscious.  She  moaned 
feebly  during  the  night  and  until  she  ceased  breathing,  but  died  quietly 
and  without  any  violent  struggle.  *  *  *  It  was  a  dreadful  sickness — 
of  terribly  protracted  agony.  We  all  try  to  divest  ourselves  of  selfish- 
ness, and  to  thank  our  Heavenly  Father  that  He  has  taken  her  to  himself, 
and  that  she  is  relieved  from  suffering  and  agony. 


55 

My  dear,  good  friend,  such  a  wife  as  I  have  lost  ought  not  to  pass  away 
from  earth  unnoticed  and  unannounced.  Somebody  should  say  something 
of  her  virtues,  if  she  possessed  any,  and  you  know  of  and  about  her 
better  than  any  other  living  being.  I  can  say  nothing.  I  may  know 
much,  but  my  tongue  must  be  silent  on  that  subject.  Cannot  you,  my 
good  friend,  who  have  known  her  so  long  and  loved  her  so  well,  give  to 
Mrs.  Mary  Clemmer  something  of  her  history,  of  her  attainments  and 
characteristics,  to  enable  her  to  give  to  the  world  some  knowledge  of  a 
pure,  good,  devoted  woman,  of  whom  many  have  heretofore  had  no  knowl- 
edge. It  can  do  my  poor  dead  wife  no  good,  but  it  would  be  a  great 
comfort  and  consolation  to  her  many  kind  friends  to  know  that,  though 
dead,  she  was  not  forgotten. 

My  dear  wife  donated  her  entire  cabinet  of  minerals  and  shells  to  the 
Chicago  Academy  of  Science.  To  the  Chicago  Historical  Society  she 
gave  everything  relative  to  history.  To  the  Old  People's  Home  sundry 
gifts.  To  every  one  of  her  friends  some  memento.  I  find  in  a  beautiful 
Tunbridge  mosaic  box  sundry  articles  with  a  slip  of  paper  in  her  own 
handwriting,  "  To  my  dear  friend  Janette,  from  Ella,"  which  I  shall  for- 
ward to  you  soon.  Very  many  of  her  rare  and  beautiful  things  are 
deposited  in  the  Safety  Deposit  Vaults  in  Chicago,  where  they  have  been 
for  three  or  more  years,  and  I  cannot  distribute  them  until  I  return  to 
Chicago,  when  the  Doctor  will  hear  from  me. 

She  began  the  distribution  of  her  effects  three  months  before  her  death, 
but  the  work  was  very  distasteful  and  unpleasant,  and  she  often  remarked 
that  she  was  induced  to  do  so  to  relieve  me  from  so  sad  a  task.  She 
could  do  but  little  at  a  time  and  was  unable  to  finish,  but  she  gave  me 
verbally  her  wishes,  and  I  have  endeavored  to  carry  out  her  wishes  in  every 
respect.  She  selected  all  her  own  grave  clothes  three  months  before  her 
death,  and  intimated  to  me  fully  her  wishes  as  to  her  funeral  and  pall- 
bearers. *  *  *  *  Her  nurse  and  physician  became  very  much 
attached  to  her,  she  was  so  considerate  and  so  patient.  Th«y  both  say 
that  they  never  saw  such  suffering. 

And  yet  to  her  last  moment  she  never  suffered  so  much  that  she  did 
not  think  of  others — often  of  others  far  distant — before  she  thought  of 
herself. 


56 

Mr.  Atwater's  next  letter  is  dated : 

Buffalo,  April  jo,  i8y8. 
My  Very  Dear  Friend  Mrs.  Baxter  : 

Your  kind  note  of  the  22d  instant  was  received  as  I  was  leaving  for 
Canandaigua  to  make  the  necessary  arrangements  for  interring  the 
remains  of  my  dear  wife  by  the  side  of  her  mother  in  our  family  lot  at 
that  village. 

I  went  there  a  week  ago  yesterday  and  caused  a  stone  and  brick  vault 
to  be  constructed,  under  the  direction  of  one  of  my  old  school-mates,  a 
resident,  and  now  about  seventy-three  years  of  age.  I  returned  on 
Wednesday,  and  on  Thursday  my  niece  (Mrs.  Sexton)  moved  into  her 
new  quarters.  On  Friday  I  received  notice  from  my  venerable  friend 
that  all  was  in  readiness  ;  when,  with  my  nephew  (Mr.  Albert  Barnard), 
of  this  city,  I  left  with  the  remains  of  my  dear  wife  for  Canandaigua, 
where' we  arrived  at  half-past  six  o'clock  P.  M.,  and  were  met  at  the  depot 
bv  my  niece  (Mrs.  Brush,  a  sister  of  Mrs.  Sexton's),  several  ladies,  and 
ten  of  my  old  school-mates.  The  remains  were  taken  direct  to  the  cem- 
etery, attended  by  the  Presbyterian  clergyman,  and  deposited  in  the  vault 
prepared  for  them,  by  the  side  of  her  mother.  It  had  rained  hard  nearly 
all  day,  but  before  we  arrived  at  Canandaigua  it  became  clear,  bright  and 
sunshiny,  and  it  was  beautiful.  My  old  Canandaigua  friends  were  exceed- 
ingly kind  and  attentive,  and  the  few  who  had  the  pleasure  of  knowing 
her  spoke  of  her  with  great  kindness. 

I  remained  at  Canandaigua  until  three  o'clock  P.  M.  of  Saturday,  and 
reached  Buffalo  at  eight  P.  M.;  and  I  write  you  thus  particularly  because 
you  were  ever  my  dear  wife's  nearest  and  dearest  friend,  and  would  feel 
interested  in  knowing  all  about  her. 

Since  her  death  I  have  been  dreadfully  lonesome  and  dreary,  and  have 
but  little  desire  to  do  anything,  see  anybody,  or  go  anywhere.  She  made 
very  manyjDequests  of  trifles  to  her  frieiids,  and  I  have  been  engaged  in 
hunting  them  up  and  sending  them  to  the  persons  for  whom  they  were 
designed.  But  she  brought  but  few  articles  here,  and  I  must  finish  up 
carrying  out  her  wishes  on  my  return  to  Chicago.  You  knew  my  dear 
wife  well,  but  you  would  be  astonished  to  find  such  method,  such  order, 
such  detail.  I  find  she  has  kept  an  accurate  account  of  all  her  expenses 
ever  since  1841 — all  written  out  in  her  books;  and  I  find  journals  from 


57 

i86o  up  to  December,  1S78,  written  out  fully  every  day,  and  giving  a 
complete  history  of  each  day  of  where  she  was,  what  she  saw,  and  whom 
she  met  in  all  her  various  travels  to  the  South,  through  all  the  Southern 
States  and  cities,  to  California,  Colorado,  etc.,  etc.,  with  her  views  and 
ideas  of  what  she  saw.  These  journals  are  interesting  to  me,  as  they  take 
me  back  over  the  same  journeys,  and  bring  everything  fresh  to  my  mind. 
You  have  no  idea  of  the  world  of  work  she  has  done  with  her  pen. 
Every  letter  she  ever  wrote  or  received  is  a  matter  of  record  as  to  the 
persons  to  whom  written,  or  from  whom  received,  with  the  date  thereof. 
A  full  list  of  every  person  who  called  upon  her,  or  upon  whom  she 
called,  I  find  extending  back  for  years.  I  find  memorandums  in  detail 
of  the  contents  of  every  trunk,  box,  bundle  or  package,  and  a  full  inven- 
tory of  every  shell,  specimen,  plant,  shrub  or  curiosity  ;  where  and  how 
she  procured  it,  and  in  very  many  cases  printed  articles  cut  from  papers, 
giving  a  full  history  of  the  article  or  thing.  I  have  had  but  little  time  to 
examine  her  scores  of  books,  filled  full  of  memoranda,  tied  up  and  marked 
by  her.  She  has  five  thousand  patriotic  envelopes,  designed  to  be  placed 
in  books,  and  she  has  five  large  books  (made  for  her  in  Philadelphia)  in 
which  to  place  them,  one  of  which  is  nearly  completed,  and  the  material 
to  fill  the  others  ready.  She  has  series  of  all  the  almanacs  for  this  and 
part  of  the  last  century,  and  an  inventory  of  the  number  and  of  their  dates. 
Of  her  list  of  old  spelling-books  and  of  the  books  themselves  I  cannot 
state  accurately  how  many  there  are,  but  a  great  many.  She  has  samples 
of  all  the  fractional  currency  issued  by  our  government,  and  a  world  of 
Confederate  money,  of  all  kinds  and  sorts  and  denominations  ;  as  well  as 
a  large  assortment  of  individual  or  private  ctirre^tcy  issued  by  hotel-keep- 
ers, merchants,  butchers,  etc.,  etc.  I  find  that  her  cabinet  specimens  of 
shells,  minerals,  etc.,  etc.,  are  all  numbered,  and  each  box  marked  and 
numbered,  and  an  inventory  made  up  of  the  contents  of  each  box  or 
package,  with  the  scientific  name  of  each  specimen.  So  wiih  all  of  her 
plants.  Everything  is  in  as  complete  condition  as  possible.  The  His- 
torical Society  will  be  enriched  with  a  great  number  and  variety  of  old 
spelling-books  and  almanacs,  and  a  variety  of  venerable  literature.  Was 
a  corresponding  member  of  the  Academy  of  Sciences  of  Maryland,  and 
also  of  the  Academy  of  Sciences  of  Buffalo.  Was  one  of  the  original 
founders  of  the  "  Old  Ladies'  Home  "  of  Chicago  ;  an  active  member  of 
the  "  Humane  Society"  of  Chicago.     She  has  always  held  a  position  as 


58 

one  of  the  directoresses  of  the  "  Old  Ladies'  Home,"  and  at  one  time  was 
its  treasurer.  The  Hon.  George  W.  Clinton,  an  eminent  botanist  of  this 
city,  held  her  in  high  regard  as  a  botanist,  and  says  the  very  many  speci- 
mens he  received  from  her  vi^ere  prepared  better  than  from  any  other 
person.  She  discovered  several  new  plants,  heretofore  unknown  in  this 
country  to  botanists,  and  two  or  three  have  been  named  for  her  by  bota- 
nists. My  dear  wife  was  a  wonderful,  wonderful  woman,  self-sacrificing, 
working  always  for  others,  and  happy  when  she  could  in  any  way  con- 
tribute to  the  happiness  of  others,  at  whatever  cost  to  herself. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

Tributes  of  Friends. 

IX/TANV  personal  tributes  to  his  dear  wife  were  received 
by  Mr.  iVtwater.  It  would  be  pleasant  to  transcribe 
them  all  to  these  pages  were  it  possible.  As  this  cannot  be, 
I  give  those  which,  springing  from  the  most  intimate  knowl- 
edge, deal  most  largely  and  most  minutely  with  her  personal 
characteristics.  First,  the  tribute  to  her  dear  memory  from 
her  life-long  friend  "Janette,"  Mrs.  Portus  Baxter,  of  Ver- 
mont.    She  says : 

It  is  almost  impossible  to  specify  perfections  in  the  character  of  my 
dearest  friend  Elizabeth — her  hfe  from  the  beginning  being  fauUless, 
Our  acquaintance  tvith  and  love/f;-  each  other  commenced  when  we  were 
children,  not  more  than  six  years  of  age,  continuing,  with  constant  corre- 
spondence, until  her  decease. 

From  childhood  her  innate  sense  of  propriety  was  wonderful.  Her 
devoted  affection  and  large  benevolence,  controlled  always  by  sound  judg- 
ment and  strict  justice,  gave  weight  and  respect  to  her  opinions.  Small 
in  stature,  but  in  no  other  sense,  she  was  full  of  animation  and  spright- 
liness  ;  gay,  but  never  boisterous  in  her  mirthfulness  ;  her  wit  and  repartee 
sparkling,  but  never  sarcastic.  Her  love  of  nature  was  intense,  as  her 
great  knowledge  ^y"  and  interests  natural  science  testify.  Botany  was 
her  favorite  study  in  youthful  and  school-days,  when  we  were  intimately 
associated  in  study,  always  rooming  together  if  possible.  Her  neatness 
and  order  were  wonderful ;  and  my  pleasure  was  unbounded  when  our 
room  and  our  bureau  drawers  were  pronounced  "perfect!"      Though 


6o 

stnall  she  was  muscular,  so  much  so  we  called  her  "  Little  Samson."  That 
strength  enabled  her  small,  almost  "  petite  "  body,  to  accomplish  won- 
ders mentally  and  physically  in  the  pursuit  of  every  good  work  in  which 
she  engaged.  There  seemed  no  bounds  to  her  endurance  when  interested 
in  some  benevolent  or  scientific  object ;  in  truth,  I  have  never  known 
such  an  indefatigable,  earnest  worker  in  the  various  and  praiseworthy 
directions  suggested  by  her  love  of  humanity  or  science. 

Her  love  of  animals  was  very  strong.  Once,  in  Chicago,  when  passing 
a  teamster  who  had  cruelly  whipped  his  overburdened  oxen,  until  the 
tough  skin  was  broken  and  the  blood  starting,  she  very  feelingly  called 
his  attention  to  it,  asking  how  it  happened.  He  was  ashamed,  and  hung 
his  head.  She  did  not  leave  him  without  a  promise  he  would  not  strike 
them  again.  She  often  saw  horses  and  dogs  abused,  and  never  without  a 
word  in  their  behalf,  so  judiciously  spoken  they  had  the  desired  effect. 

Many,  many  years  ago,  her  father.  Judge  Emerson,  induced  the  great 
revivalist  Burchard  to  go  to  Windsor,  where  they  resided,  and  make  an 
effort  to  convert  sinners.  On  asking  the  reverend  gentleman  concerning 
the  prospect,  he  replied  with  earnestness :  "  Very  well.  I  have  strong 
hopes  of  your  daughter  Elizabeth  being  converted."  The  father,  with 
the  utmost  surprise,  replied  :  "  Elizabeth  !  Elizabeth  !  talk  of  con- 
verting her!  Why,  she  is  as  pure  as  the  angels  in  heaven  !"  Which 
announcement  I  conscientiously  believe  was  true  ;  and  no  one  had  a  bet- 
ter opportunity  for  knoiving.  Our  intimacy  from  childhood,  to  the  latest 
moment  of  her  life,  justifies  the  assertion  \.\\q.\.  htima?i  nature  can  never 
attain  greater  perfection  ! 

My  admiration,  respect  and  love  for  my  dear  deceased  Elizabeth  can 
never  be  expressed  in  words,  nor  the  sympathy  and  commiseration  for 
her  beloved  and  unutterably  bereaved  husband,  whom  it  has  always 
seemed  to  me  was  especially  made  for  her.  He  was  every  way  so  com- 
patible. In  her  last  letter  to  me,  January  30,  1878,  she  says  :  "  My  good 
*  T.'  is  devotion  itself,  and  will  permit  no  one  to  do  the  slightest  service 
for  me."  Also  (as  we  were  at  that  time  both  invalids),  after  recounting 
her  unfavorable  and  distressing  symptoms,  she  says :  "  However,  the 
parting  time  must  come  to  us  all ;  but  it  is  sad  to  leave  this  beautiful 
world  so  at  variance  with  it  as  all  this  physical  torture  renders  one. 
May  God  spare  you  yet  a  long  time  to  your  dear  children  and  friends.  I 
am  ready  to  obey  his  summons  when  it  doth  come  ;  still  life  is  dear  to  me 


6i 

for  the  sake  of  loved  friends.  I  have  realized  great  enjoyment  ^ith 
nature,  with  dear  friends,  and  in  my  pursuits.  I  have  never  been  a 
society  woman  ;  my  whole  nature  has  revolted  at  it." 

Her  heroism  in  her  sickness  and  death  was  in  unison  with  her  rounded 
and  perfectly  Christian  and  consistent  character,  sustained  through  all  her 
useful  and  eventful  life.  The  last  si.\  months  of  suffering  was  intense, 
trying  her  patience  and  faith  most  severely,  which  was  never  found  want- 
ing. A  true  and  earnest  Christian,  she  has  gone  to  the  rest  which  God 
giveth  his  beloved. 

The  second  tribute  is  from  Mrs.  Thomas  Morris,  a  lady 
of  marked  intelligence  and  refinement,  the  wife  of  Mrs. 
Atwater's  nephew.  Both  husband  and  wife  were  great 
favorites  and  close  companions  of  Mrs.  Atwater.  Mrs. 
Morris  writes : 

Potomac,  Va.,  May  ig,  j8j8. 
Dear  Mrs.  Clemmer: 

I  have  been  looking  over  dear  Aunt  Elizabeth's  letters  to-day,  and  find 
but  one  extract  that  seems  to  reveal  the  inner  woman  to  the  world.  She 
says  :  "  I  must  not  write  a  word  more.  I  have  such  distress  for  respira- 
tion, cannot  cross  the  room  without  assistance.  May  God  grant  me 
submission  to  His  holy  will."  This  shows  to  us  her  unselfishness,  her 
pen  cheering  us  in  this  lonely  place,  though  every  stroke  increased  her 
suffering.  She  was  truly  a  Christian  in  all  her  acts.  Though  you  early 
heard  her  express  in  words  her  belief  or  hopes,  she  had  not  a  particle  of 
cant  about  her,  and  was  the  most  natural,  unaffected  person  I  ever  saw. 
With  the  nicest  sense  of  propriety,  she  was  the  most  girlish,  playful 
creature  among  her  intimate  friends.  That  made  her  a  companion  you 
never  tired  of. 

She  was  so  sympathetic,  she  made  warm  friends  among  all  classes  of 
people  ;  and  she  did  not  confine  her  sympathies  to  words,  she  was  so 
generous.  She  was  passionately  fond  of  birds  and  animals,  and  often  in 
the  city  stopped  and  pleaded  for  some  dumb  creature  who  was  being 
ill-used.  I  well  remember  her  once  out  paying  visits,  beautifully  dressed, 
stopping  and  inquiring  into  the  cause  of  a  poor  little  mongrel  dog's  lame- 


62 

ness,  and  stooping  down  in  dust  and  dirt  to  look  at  the  lame  leg,  the 
indifierent  answer  of  the  owner,  and  her  indignation  at  the  brutality  of 
half  the  world. 

She  was  order  itself — did  everything  exquisitely.  Her  sewing  was  a 
marvel,  and  her  pressed  flowers  the  finest  I've  heard  botanists  say  they 
ever  saw ;  and  she  had  very  valuable  herbariums.  Though  she  was  in 
correspondence  and  constantly  exchanging  specimens  with  botanists  in 
this  country  and  Europe,  I  do  not  know  what  disposition  she  has  made 
of  these  ;  but  intend  going  to  Buffalo  very  soon  to  assist  Mr.  Atwater  in 
looking  over  her  effects,  and  can  then  write  you  ;  and  perhaps  in  settling 
quietly  down  with  Uncle  Sam.  I  may  glean  facts  that  will  be  of  use  to 
you  ;  if  so,  will  write  them  down. 

She  was  member  of  a  number  of  scientific  and  historical  societies,  and 
has  left  many  things  to  them,  which  I  can  tell  you  about  by  and  by.  Had 
a  moss  or  fern  named  for  her  by  some  European  botanist.  She  discov- 
ered it  in  California.  She  was  never  idle,  and  the  number  of  letters  she 
wrote  was  more  than  any  one  ought — so  her  physician  often  told  her. 

In  her  collection  of  rare  things  burned  in  the  Chicago  fire,  she  had 
contributions  from  every  part  of  the  globe  nearly. 

To  illustrate  how  she  made  friends,  and  what  grew  out  of  the  chance 
acquaintances  :  At  the  World's  Fair  in  New  York  she  was  delighted  par- 
ticularly with  the  Italian  department  and  the  mosaics  from  Victor  Eman- 
uel s  factory  or  pottery.  She  returned  to  look  at  them  so  often,  and  so 
thoroughly  appreciated  them,  that  she  finally  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
Italian  Commissioner,  a  gentleman  attached  to  the  staff  of  the  king,  and 
they  had  many  pleasant  talks  about  art  in  general,  exchanged  cards,  and 
within  a  year  after  his  return  to  Italy  came  to  her  from  him  some  exquisite 
specimens  of  the  different  kinds  of  mosaics  and  a  photograph  of  Victor 
Emanuel,  with  his  autograph.  Since  then,  on  the  receipt  of  President 
Lincoln's  photograph,  she  had  from  him  a  mosaic  of  the  same,  which  is 
perfect  as  a  likeness.  Many  pleasant  letters  passed  between  them,  and 
a  lasting  friendship  grew  out  of  a  chance  meeting.  So  with  a  Nantucket 
sea-captain,  whose  wife  she  knew,  but  had  never  met  him.  Through  a 
four-years'  voyage  he  was  constantly  writing  of  this  or  that  he  had  col- 
lected for  Mrs,  Atwater — which  finally  reached  her.  She  fairly  inspired 
people  thrown  with  her  with  her  own  tastes.  She  opened  a  new  world 
to  many  by  her  genuine  love  for  nature. 


63 

I  shall  never  forget  our  rambles  about  Nantucket  moors  together  one 
summer.  She  found  Scotch  heather  there — ^just  one  tuft — a  thing  unheard 
of  before  in  this  country  ;  and  then  such  a  search  for  more,  but  in  vain. 
The  next  summer  I  found  it  again  in  the  same  place,  to  her  great  joy,  for 
some  of  her  botanist  friends  had  thought  her  mistaken,  but  another 
specimen  convinced  them,  and  she  was  credited  with  the  discovery. 

Her  married  life  was  as  perfect  as  anything  can  be  in  this  world.  She 
was  cherished  and  shielded  from  every  care.  I  do  not  wonder  poor  Uncle 
Sam.  sits  down  in  utter  desolation,  for  she  did  her  share  in  making  life 
sweet  to  him  in  a  thousand  womanly  ways. 

The  following  from  Europe  came  from  a  correspondent 
of  many  years : 

Nice,  Italy,  March  sg,  iSy8. 
My  Dear  Mr.  Atwater  : 

You  will  readily  understand  how  much  sorrow  we  have  experienced 
from  the  contents  of  your  letter  of  the  7th  inst.,  which  we  received  last 
evening.  We  entertained  hopes  that  the  wonderful  energy  and  vitality 
which  your  wife's  constitution  had  so  many  times  evinced,  might  again 
come  to  her  aid  and  yet  preserve  her  to  us  all  for  yet  a  longer  period ; 
but,  from  what  you  say  as  to  her  sufferings  from  pain  and  great  weakness, 
I  see  not  much  hope  of  her  long  continuing  in  this  life,  and,  my  dear 
friend,  why  should  we  wish  it,  if  so  much  pain  and  suffering  is  to  be  her 
lot?  for  better  happiness  and  absence  from  all  sorrow  in  a  better  world, 
with  a  Blessed  Saviour  for  her  companion  and  where  the  weary  are 
promised  rest — by  coming  to  Him.  Blessed  consolation  for  all  who  seek 
Him  faithfully.  May  such  be  the  inexpressible  happiness  of  us  all,  my 
dear  friend,  when  the  hour  of  trial  comes,  for  come  it  must  to  every  one 
of  us  sooner  or  later. 

This  news  throws  quite  a  cloud  over  the  prospect  of  our  proposed  visit 
to  the  West.  To  see  our  old  and  much-esteemed  friend,  your  dear  wife, 
once  more,  formed  a  large  feature  in  our  anticipated  enjoyment  in  our 
trip,  and  now,  I  fear,  such  we  are  not  destined  to  realize.  Well,  God's 
will  be  done,  for  in  His  keeping  are  we  all.  Let  it  be  for  us  to  strive 
earnestly  to  meet  Him  when  He  calls  us  away  from  this  life,  and  to  say 
with  the  German  poet  Neander,  "  I  am  ready,  mighty  Lord." 


64 

It  must  have  been  a  very  great  source  of  thankfulness  to  you  to  be  able 
to  enjoy  the  comforts  of  so  good  a  home  for  yourself  and  Mrs.  AtwateK. 
in  this  her  hour  of  great  trial,  and  that  your  own  health  was  so  improved 
as  to  admit  of  your  constant  watchfulness  of  her  wants,  and,  I  trust, 
without  any  return  of  your  own  past  ailments.  This  must  be  a  source  of 
very  great  thankfulness  to  you  hereafter,  that  you  were  enabled  to  be  her 
constant  companion.  I  know  not  if  this  may  come  to  your  hand  that 
she  may  see  it.  I  hope  it  may,  and  that  you  can  read  to  her  of  all  our 
grief  and  of  all  our  sorrow  to  think  we  may  not  meet  her  again  in  this 
life.  The  many  happy  days — indeed  I  may  say  years — that  we  spent 
together  at  Chicago,  and  our  constant  happy  intercourse  since  by  corre- 
spondence, are  things  not  to  be  easily  forgotten,  and  we  shall  miss  her 
wonted  happy  and  most  interesting  letters  very,  very  much.  Many 
thanks  for  her  kind  thoughtfulness  in  sending  us  the  pretty  wild  flowers. 
They  will  be  treasures  to  keep  and  recall  to  our  minds  one  of  those  happy 
features  of  her  disposition — a  love  of  nature — a  most  attractive  souvenir 
of  our  very  dear  friend.  I  am  writing  this  by  candle-light,  and  I  am  very 
fearful  you  may  not  find  it  easy  to  read,  for  neither  my  sight  nor  my  pen- 
manship are  so  good  as  they  used  to  be  ;  but  you  must  bear  with  my 
failings,  for  I  am  anxious  that  this  may  come  quickly  to  your  hand  and 
go  by  to-morrow's  post  to  Paris  and,  may  be,  catch  the  Cunard  steamer 
on  Sunday  at  Queenstown.  And  now,  my  dear  friend,  what  more  can  I 
say,  but  that  God  may  have  you  both  in  His  keeping  here  and  hereafter, 
and  that  such  is  my  own  and  my  wife's  most  earnest  prayer.  I  seem  as 
if  under  the  influence  of  a  dream  in  contemplation  of  this  sad  event,  so 
pray  excuse  any  blunders  that  may  appear  and  be  assured  of  our  great 
love  and  esteem  for  both  yourself  and  our  dear  friend,  your  wife.  Tell 
her  so  if  she  yet  be  with  you.     Believe  me  now  and  always, 

Yours  faithfully, 

P.  Anderson, 

The  last  is  from  a  dear  friend  in  ^Maine: 

York  Harbor,  Maine,  August  20,  1878. 
My  Dear  Friend  Mr.  Atwater  : 

Your  beautiful  and  most  kind  but  truly  sad  letter,  re-mailed  to  me 
from  Cambridge,  was  duly  received.    I  delayed  answering  it  until  I  should 


65 

know  from  Cambridge  that  the  express  package  was  safely  received.  A 
letter  from  Miss  Lane's  home  assures  us  of  its  safe  arrival.  I  thank  you 
for  the  mementos  and  also  for  the  tender  recollections  of  our  dear  and 
faithful  friend,  your  beloved  wife.  We  thought  we  had  known  her 
methodical  industry'  before  your  letter  told  us  of  it,  but  we  had  not  con- 
ceived of  its  extent.  Her  patience  in  suffering,  her  active  usefulness  when 
health  permitted,  her  untiring  kindness,  her  consideration,  her  courtesy 
to  all,  her  justice  in  all  her  dealings,  we  knew,  and  it  is  a  terrible  loss  to 
us  to  feel  that  on  earth  we  can  know  them  no  more.  I  "am  sorry  that  I 
did  not  know  of  your  desire  to  have  her  friends'  memories  of  her  col- 
lected, with  a  brief  sketch  of  her  life  in  a  memorial  volume.  It  would 
have  been  a  sweet,  sad  duty,  and  I  should  have  felt  I  might  in  some  poor 
way  convey  to  her  in  heaven,  and  to  you  on  earth,  our  appreciation  of 
her,  of  your  beautiful  relation  to  each  other,  and  of  our  gratitude  for  your 
long  friendship.  We  were  like  sisters  in  those  early  Chicago  days,  and 
perhaps  nearer  to  her  than  the  friends  made  later  after  her  life  had  broad- 
ened. I  know  her  affection  for  "  Janette,"  and  I  hope  that  if  there  were 
one  thing  more  than  any  other  that  I  should  like  to  testify,  it  would  be  this  : 
The  fideHtyand  constancy  of  Elizabeth's  nature.  Though  the  circle  of 
her  acquaintance,  and  even  of  her  dear  friends,  was  constantly  widening, 
yet  she  never  slighted  or  neglected  an  old  friend  for  a  new.  No  one  ever 
felt  superseded  and  set  aside.  What  she  was  in  the  beginning  she  was  to 
the  end,  and  if  an  old  Chicago  friend,  after  twenty  years'  absence  from 
her.  had  met  her  in  Jerusalem,  she  would  have  been  welcomed  so  cordially 
that  she  would  have  been  made  to  forget  the  lapse  of  years. 

In  this  world  of  faithless  friends  and  fickle  fancies,  I  think  this  grand 
trait  of  our  dear  E.'s  character  should  be  held  up  to  admiration  and 
example.  It  would  have  been  so  easy  for  her,  with  her  world-wide-apart 
friends,  to  have  passed  over  and  forgotten  some  ;  but  she  never  did  ;  and 
if  she  found  a  treasure  in  a  new  friend,  she  was  ever  eager  to  have  all 
who  had  loved  her  before  share  it.  I  felt  comforted  to  know  that  Katie 
Goodnow  was  with  her  to  the  last,  she  was  so  fond  of  her,  and  Katie  was 
a  true  friend  to  her.  I  sincerely  hope  our  good  friend  Will  is  not  seriously 
injured.  It  would  be  a  great  blow  to  his  sisters.  I  will  not  try  to  express 
to  you  the  sympathy  we  feel  for  you.  Always  when  I  have  thought  of 
the  happiest  married  pair,  it  has  been  of  you  two  friends.  You  were 
always  patient  with  her,  devoted  to  her,  and  she  knew  it,  and  blessed 
5 


66 

God  for  it.  She  was  never  tired  of  rehearsing  your  affectionate  consid- 
eration for  her,  your  patience  with  her  invalidism,  your  indulgence  of  her 
tastes  and  anticipation  of  ever}-  wish.  Her  sufferings  are  ended.  If  we 
believe  in  a  hereafter  we  can  believe  in  nothing  but  good  for  her  who 
tried  to  live  honestly  and  deal  justly  with  all.  It  is  you  whom  we  pity 
now.  It  is  so  mmh  harder  to  be  Uft  than  to  be  taken.  We  shed  tears 
of  sorrowful  sympathy  when  we  read  of  your  sitting  by  her  dying  bed 
and  helping  her  trembling  hands  to  assort  and  arrange  her  last  bequests 
to  her  friends.  Indeed,  sir,  I  do  not  see  how  you  could  endure  the 
anguish  of  those  last  weeks  ;  and  I  pray  you  may  not  be  long  parted. 
Miss  Lane  joins  me  in  the  most  affectionate  and  grateful  friendship  and 
sympathy  for  you.     From  your  old  friend, 

C.  A.  Baker. 

Buffalo,  January  8,  iSjg. 

Madam  :  I  am  but  one  of  the  multitude  who  admired  and  esteemed 
Elizabeth  E.  Atwater.  She  has  left  her  husband,  my  friend,  in  an 
enduring  grief,  which  is,  however,  not  the  grief  of  those  who  are  without 
hope.  For  myself,  I  deeply  sjTnpathize  with  him,  and  feel  that  I  have 
lost  a  friend  who  was  very  dear  to  me. 

Mrs.  Atwater's  intellect  was  strong,  her  sense  of  beauty  in  all  of  its 
manifestations  was  admirable,  her  acquisitions  of  science  great  and  diffused. 
Above  all,  she  was  in  the  truest  sense  a  lady.  Without  effort,  she  com- 
manded admiration,  and  won  friends  wherever  she  went.  She  was,  to  the 
utmost  of  her  means,  a  promoter  of  science.  She  studied  nature  in  a 
devotional  spirit,  and  not  as  its  cold  self-seeking  anatomist.  I  was  more 
grieved  than  I  can  tell  you  at  her  departure,  and  I  am  glad  that  I  have  in 
the  herbarium  of  our  society  so  many  and  so  precious  memorials  of  her. 

Very  respectfully  yours, 

G.  W.  Clinton. 
Mrs.  Mary  Clemmer. 


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